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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26286835">FILE: VIVISECTED</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowcrestNightingale/pseuds/ShadowcrestNightingale'>ShadowcrestNightingale</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Subconscious Files [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Id:Invaded (Anime)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Animal Abuse, Canon Compliant, Detectives, Family Issues, Gen, Literary References &amp; Allusions, Missing Persons, Murder, Murder Mystery, Pre-Canon, Rookies, Science Experiments, Serial Killers, parenting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:35:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>40,533</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26286835</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowcrestNightingale/pseuds/ShadowcrestNightingale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Before there was Kura, there was the First Investigation Division. Narihisago and Momoki are rookie homicide detectives, not long removed from the uniforms of typical beat duty. When an unusual case ends up in their hands, the more seasoned Matsuoka is less than thrilled with the chief's decision and stalks the partners determined to discipline what he deems as their roughest recruit ever. As the grizzly pieces come out of the woodwork this proving ground case cuts close to the bone, getting more bizarre … and more vital! </p><p>Canon compatible, expanding off the world in the same feel as the episodes, filling in gaps.</p><p>MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING: If psychological disorders and suicide are triggers, DO NOT read! ID: Invaded gets heavy into this and I am writing to the feel of the series.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Narihisago Akihito/ Narihisago Ayako</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Subconscious Files [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1869256</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>170</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is set pre-series, but will loosely link to the fourth in my series. Because this is before the trauma that crippled him, Akihito Narihisago will behave different than in the series, consider this what I believe he was like originally--much happier for one. Though my stories are all stand alone, I tend to link them in a single headcanon that is canon compatible. It is not essential to read them all but you might get more from doing so as I like subtle links, foreshadowing and calling back ... and I also enjoy Easter eggs!</p><p>I hope you enjoy my take on ID: Invaded.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>For some strange reason the letters grew larger and larger beneath Detective Akihito Narihisago's pen. Stooped over his desk he blinked slowly in the morning light spilling through the half open blinds behind him. They cast stripes over the paperwork as the pen gradually slipped from his fingers to roll off onto the floor. His forehead edged down an inch at a time until it just dropped the final one onto the back of his hand. Within minutes his head rolled so his cheek rested on his arm, whole body leaning forward precariously propped against the edge of his desk.</p><p>His impromptu nap hadn't gone unnoticed in the First Investigation Division's homicide office. Most of the detectives' desks were laid out in the open floor plan, only senior staff were awarded private offices. Chatter ran in a wave, stifled laughter, elbowed gestures, pointing to his desk in the corner where he lay softly snoring. A small group of more established detectives drifted over behind him, whispering.</p><p>“Do it.”</p><p>“No, just tap him on the shoulder.”</p><p>“Heh, no way. He falls asleep on the job he needs to learn a lesson.”</p><p>“Yeah, he asked for this.”</p><p>“We're not in high school, guys. This is a professional office.”</p><p>“Well, Narihisago clearly thinks this is preschool nappy time. Soo … ” With a foot against the base of his chair, all it took was a gentle push to finish what his own precarious position had started. The chair wheels gradually slid to the right extending the gap he lay over, until …</p><p><em>Scrreeeeechhh </em>…</p><p>Narihisago's eyes snapped opened as gravity seized him. In a sudden panic he clawed at the edge of the desk trying to rescue himself from the plummet and failed as his own scrambling weight drove the chair far enough from his desk. He tumbled face first onto the floor, barely catching himself with this arms.</p><p>THUD! “Ooof!”</p><p>Snickering laughter broke out overhead as he blinked at the base of his desk trying to put together the pieces. <em>What the hell? Why am I … </em></p><p>“Shh! Look!” Suddenly that mirth dispelled as a pair of distinctive high-polished brown leather shoes stopped in front of him.</p><p>
  <em>Crap. Now I'm in for it.</em>
</p><p>A throat cleared. He looked up into Senior Detective Kokuryu Matsuoka's stern face, his arms crossed over his chest. For some reason he always looked like he suffered from chronic constipation. “Something wrong with your chair, Narihisago?”</p><p>“No,” he mumbled, a yawn aborting any other words he might have tried.</p><p>At that yawn Matsuoka's brow knit deep enough to hold chopsticks. “I <b>thought</b> that's what I saw. Is there no end to your disrespect? Sleeping on the job now?”</p><p>Narihisago sighed and pushed up from the floor, rubbing his eyes. “It's not—”</p><p>Thrusting a finger at the stack of now smeared documents, Matsuoka snapped. “Being a detective isn't all about spotting clues and making wild ass deductions. Nothing holds up in court without meticulous record keeping.”</p><p>“I know. I know.” That was all he'd been assigned since entering this department, secretary duties. “I'm getting the paperwork done. I was on it.”</p><p>He snatched one of the documents and held it up. “Sleeping on it! I swear you must have had some major connections for a disaster like you to make it out of the academy. Why did you have to land in my department? Good for nothing rookie.”</p><p>Narihisago heaved a sigh as Matsuoka turned and walked away. Pulling his chair back into place he stole a glance over at the suspicious knot of detectives suddenly looking rather busy across the room. One of them was smiling a bit too broadly. <em>Sure they pull the prank, but does he say anything to them? Nope. It's like a hen house in here. </em></p><p>Funetaro Momoki wandered up with an eyebrow quirked in the tense air as Narihisago flopped down in his creaking chair and pulled out a fresh document to recopy what he'd inadvertently smeared. Setting down a mug of coffee beside him, Momoki went around to his own desk facing Narihisago's. “Ok, I can feel it in the air, something happened in the short time I left.”</p><p>“Not much. Just a childish prank,” he muttered.</p><p>“Was that Matsuoka?”</p><p>“Yeah. Guess there <b>is</b> one way to get him out of his office.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>A passing detective chuckled and mock-whispered around his hand, “Pull a prank on Napping Narihisago.”</p><p>His head lowered a bit over the paperwork.</p><p>Momoki leaned forward. “Don't tell me you fell asleep at your desk.”</p><p>His hand tightened on the pen.</p><p>“I knew you needed the coffee, but not <em>that</em> badly. Ok, what's going on?”</p><p>Setting the pen down, he rubbed his eyes. “I don't think there is enough coffee to counter this. It's Muku, she's decided that she doesn't need to sleep anymore. Nothing is more resolute than a toddler who has made up her mind. She is a perpetual motion machine.”</p><p>“Did you get any sleep last night?”</p><p>He shrugged, yawning again. “Maybe an hour … collectively. I really hope this phase doesn't last long. Between Ayako and I, we've run out of tactics to try.”</p><p>“It can't be <em>that</em> bad.”</p><p>Narihisago eyed him, one brow raised. “She's become an overnight escape artist, getting into everything. I have to put her back into her crib every ten minutes.”</p><p>Momoki took a sip of his own coffee. “What about Ayako? Surely you can trade off so someone can get some sleep.”</p><p>“We are. She has the alternating five minute marks.”</p><p>He cringed. “Jeez. No wonder you're so tired. Still, there's no excuse for the others messing with you. They don't do anything to me.”</p><p>After a sizable gulp of the coffee, Narihisago chuckled. “Be a pretty definitive career ending move to screw with the son of a police commissioner.”</p><p>“Uh, Narihisago, you happen to be the son-in-law of the same police commissioner.”</p><p>“Not the same thing. I don't have your family name so I doubt anyone knows, let alone cares.” He yawned and scratched his head in a stretch. “Don't worry about it. Sure, it was a rude awakening, but it could have been worse. They woke me up before the chief passed through. Saved me that epic level of trouble.”</p><p>People drifted through the floor all the time. Most days it was a constant flurry of background activity of some sort. But for some reason a blue-clad figure caught Narihisago's eye. He glanced up behind Momoki and cleared his throat with a subtle gesture. He stiffened, eyes half closing as Narihisago gave a single confirming nod.</p><p>A hand clamped on his shoulder. “Funetaro, I should have known I would find you here.” Commissioner Momoki in full uniform tucked his hat beneath his arm.</p><p>He couldn't duck out of it. “Well, this is my desk in the middle of the workday, so it kind of makes sense I'd be here.”</p><p>“I'm glad I caught you, son.”</p><p>Momoki's eyes half shut before he looked up, meeting his father's smiling gaze.</p><p>“Tonight we're hosting a formal dinner. I was here inviting the chief. The mayor along with several other dignitaries are gathering at the house. Oh, and your brother is back in town, too. So, your mother and I thought we would have a nice get together.”</p><p>Staring like a deer into headlights, Momoki didn't reply.</p><p>“Oh yes, speaking of family get togethers,” Commissioner Momoki turned toward Narihisago who suddenly felt the attention and glanced up at him. “Akihito, why don't you and Ayako stop on by tonight. Even though it's formal, you can bring Muku, I'd love to see my little granddaughter again!”</p><p>The office immediately ceased to move, everyone seemed to transform into a forest of deer in front of headlights.</p><p>“Uhh, well, appreciate the invite, Sir.” Narihisago's weary eyes blinked. “But we're kind of in the middle of a rough spot. Muku's been stubborn and we're trying to re-establish sleeping habits. Your party would interrupt that. So, have to pass on that.”</p><p>He cocked his head, studying him before grinning. “Ah the terrible toddler years. I remember dealing with that. You have my sympathy, son.”</p><p>“You don't happen to know if they make handcuffs in toddler size?”</p><p>He chuckled. “Not the last time I checked. Consistency is the key, my boy. You'll get through it. Bring her by another time once she's out of this phase. We'll have dinner.”</p><p>Narihisago smiled. “I'll let Ayako know.”</p><p>“Give her a kiss from her father.” Commissioner Momoki turned and tugged on his cap. “See you boys around.”</p><p>After he left the room, one of the standing detective's slowly tipped over and hit the floor with a solid thud. Narihisago returned to his paperwork, muttering just loud enough for Momoki, “Well, now it doesn't take a senior detective to answer the question of who woke me up. So, you going to get all dressed up in blues tonight?”</p><p>Momoki folded his arms across his chest. “No way in hell. I have no interest in being paraded around like a little trophy.”</p><p>“You really should tell him how much it bothers you.”</p><p>“He only seems approachable to you. Damn it, you're so lucky you don't have to put up with this.”</p><p>Narihisago finished a line on the form and glanced up. “What? You mean cause my dad is on the other side of the country and can't just pop into the office where I work randomly to ask me to sample the sake? That would leave a rather bad impression.”</p><p>“You talk to him, right?”</p><p>“Of course. Over the phone. He managed an online video call once, that was … interesting. We're still in touch, it's just less … intrusive. You know, part of it might be that you're still living at—”</p><p>“Enough.”</p><p>Narihisago lifted a shoulder. “Just saying, maybe some time away.”</p><p>“Time away?” Momoki rolled his fingers. “Hey, I got a proposition for you!”</p><p>“Oh yeah? I'm listening while I fill out this thing, <em>again</em> … seriously, how redundant do these have to be? I'm beginning to think some sadist made these up just to be difficult. Besides we're in the digital age and yet someone wants handwritten hard copies to scan. Old fashioned time wasting idiots.”</p><p>“Why don't I come over to your place after work, spend the night. I could watch Muku for you guys and let you both get some sleep.”</p><p>He dropped the pen and looked up slowly, one hand bracing his chin as he lifted an eyebrow. “Wow. You really don't want to go that dinner party. Do you have any idea what babysitting a toddler is like?”</p><p>“She's my adorable little niece. How much trouble can she be?”</p><p>He threw his head back and laughed. “Famous. Last. Words!”</p><p>Blanching, Momoki held his hands out. “I'm an adult. I can handle it.”</p><p>“Alright, you got a deal. I'll honestly accept being your alibi with gratitude. Ayako'll be relieved too. I just hope<em> you</em> won't regret it.”</p><p>“I won't.”</p><p>He glanced up through the top of his eyelids. “We'll see about that after you have a few rounds with Muku-zilla.”</p><p>
  <em> <b>~ID~</b> </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Funetaro quietly knocked on the apartment door. Out in this hallway every door looked the same except for the little number letter combinations. After a moment, the door swung open to the cheery little face of Muku singing snatches of a song, most of the words not quite right in that typical child-mishearing. Something about cracker crumbs. She was so tall because she rode on Akihito's sagging shoulders, kicking her little jungle animal-print pj-ed feet with her hands buried in his snarled hair. Dressed in a loose white t-shirt and a pair of black sleep shorts, his baggy eyes were already halfway closed as he waved Funetaro in.</p><p>He hissed as Muku leaned backward, hands full of his hair. “Muku honey, remember what Daddy said about leaving his hair attached to his head?”</p><p>Coming to his rescue, Funetaro dropped his overnight bag, smiled and held out his hands. “Look who's here!”</p><p>She showed her perfect little toddler teeth. Shrieking with joy, she wriggled into his arms. “Uncle Moki!”</p><p>Akihito rubbed his freed shoulders and yawned. “You know where everything is, help yourself. I lost the coin toss and had to stay up. Ayako's already in bed and she says thank you.”</p><p>“I got this.” Funetaro held his niece in his arms as she hugged his neck. What a sweet little bundle, it was hard to imagine her being a terror.</p><p>When Akihito shuffled out of the room, Muku looked up. “Where Daddy go?”</p><p>He paused enough to mutter, “Daddy and Mommy need to take a long nap.”</p><p>She raised a hand and did a wave resembling a lobster claw opening and closing. “Ni-night, Daddy.”</p><p>He was trying to reply, but a yawn obliterated it. Around the corner he vanished.</p><p>Funetaro smiled as Muku traced the letters on his t-shirt. “Ok sweetie. We got some time together. What do you wanna do?”</p><p>Sucking on a finger, her smile creased her eyes. “Uncle Moki wanna dance?”</p><p>He stiffened, looking around the toy strewn living room. “Uhhh, I'm not much of a dancer.”</p><p>Holding his hand she crawled out of his arms and tugged him to his feet. “I teach you.”</p><p>At the mercy of the toddler Funetaro was shocked to find her grabbing the remote for the TV and bringing up some children's sing a-long channel. To his relief, the device was set on child lock. Akihito had been with it enough to remember to do that much. Repetitive music tinkled through the air as she grabbed his fingers and swung his arms back and forth. She belted the lyrics, a bit off key, “We dance because we happy!”</p><p>
  <em>This isn't so bad.</em>
</p><p>That impression lasted til the end of the first hour. Then Muku had the wild idea to play race cars. At least he thought that's what was going on as she made squealing sounds while taking laps around the apartment. Her feet thumped along the floor at mach-toddler.</p><p>Passing by the bedroom door trying to shush her, the sight caught him by surprise. For a moment, Funetaro paused in the doorway. Ayako and Akihito both lay passed out on the bed, Akihito with his arm hanging off the edge. Both of them with visible bags beneath their eyes. Even exhausted as they were, they made for a damn cute couple.</p><p>As Muku raced past him and tried to enter the room making a beeline for the bed, Funetaro grabbed her by the wrists and swung her up into his arms. “Not so fast, sweetie. Remember what I told you? Not in here tonight. We gotta be quiet.”</p><p>She sucked on a finger and blinked at him. “Uncle Moki, wanna tell them something.”</p><p>He ruffled her hair. “When they wake up, kay?” Carrying her back out to the living room, he suggested, “How about you take a nap like them.”</p><p>“No!” She pounded her tiny fists in his arm. “Muku no sleep! Not tired!”</p><p>Oh, but she was. It was obvious. Akihito was right, she was stubborn and insisting on being a perpetual motion machine. The moment he set her down, she took off and started jumping on the couch. Funetaro darted over, waving his arms. “Whoa, let's not do that. If you fall you could get hurt.”</p><p>Of course that only shifted the rambunctious child to jump over to the chair cheering, “Weee!”</p><p>“Muku!” Funetaro now wondered why his sister and brother-in-law didn't already have gray hair from this. He chased the child like a demented dog trying to herd cats. Even in the small apartment this task was proving difficult. No wonder Akihito was tired as hell. The moment he caught her, she wriggled out of his grasp, giggling with glee. He glanced at the clock, not even midnight.</p><p>This was going to be a long night!</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> <b>~ID~</b> </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The residence was quiet. Too quiet. Akihito cautiously tiptoed around the corner peering into the living room. He wasn't expecting this. Muku lay in her crib, by some miracle actually sleeping. She was rather more colorful than when he had left her, obviously having pulled out her art supplies and turned herself into a canvas. But the rainbow smeared little girl was snoring peacefully.</p><p>Casting his gaze to the couch, he found Funetaro half awake … and covered in finger paint.</p><p>Clamping a hand over his mouth, Akihito barely managed to stifle the laughter.</p><p>His eyes drifted up. “What are you laughing at?”</p><p>“My daughter's art project, apparently. Funetaro, you've never been so colorful. Is that a pink heart on your cheek?”</p><p>He sighed, hands hanging in the air as if he were sopping wet.</p><p>“I warned you she's a handful.” He waved. “Come on, that cleans up with soap and water.”</p><p>“At least tell me after all this you got some sleep.”</p><p>At the kitchen faucet he turned it to warm and wrung out a washcloth lathering up a good amount of soap before handing it over. “I did. Thank you. But even more so—” he pointed to Muku, “thank you for that. How did you do it?”</p><p>Scrubbing off an unflattering mixture of red and green from his arm, Funetaro shrugged. “I honestly don't know. She was making a fine old mess with the only thing I found to keep her from tearing around the place, and the next thing I know, she yawned and sunk down. I would have cleaned her up.”</p><p>“Ahhh, I wouldn't have. Not if she was finally sleeping. That's a miracle.” He leaned on the sink watching and grinning. After Funetaro freed himself from the technicolors, he filled a tea pot and boiled some water.</p><p>At length they went back the couch, Funetaro suddenly stopped and jerked his foot up, half a yowled curse escaped him before Akihito clamped a hand over his mouth, eyeing Muku. They looked down at the floor and there lay one of Muku's toys, a little dog with a upright tail. That tail had gone straight into his bare foot.</p><p>“Heh, more than once I got bit by that thing. Tellin' yah, she better never ask for a real dog!”</p><p>They sat down on the couch sipping the fresh tea as he shut off the child lock and turned on an action flick, keeping the volume down.</p><p>“Akihito, you can go back to bed if you need to.”</p><p>“Nah, I'm good. Slept a lot deeper than on the edge of my work desk.” He sipped the tea, watching a car chase on the screen and chuckling at the way they dramatically flipped and caught on fire. “Seriously, script writers know nothing of physics. Cars don't do that.”</p><p>Funetaro raised an eyebrow.</p><p>A few minutes later, Ayako wandered out from the bedroom, wrapping a robe around her. She smiled and leaned over, kissing Akihito on the lips. “Good morning.”</p><p>He held up a mug, “Help yourself. Should still be hot.”</p><p>“Thanks.” She poured herself a mug and then came around the couch to lean over Funetaro. “I can't thank you enough, brother. This was a huge help knowing she was in good hands. Awww, and she's sleeping. Finally sleeping! Do you want to do this every night?”</p><p>Funetaro stiffened. His shock was cut short by a burst of muffled laughter. He stared over at Akihito, pounding on his knee. “What's so funny?”</p><p>“Have to start calling you Nanny Moki!”</p><p>“That's not funny.” He folded his arms.</p><p>“You're right. It's hilarious. I just pictured you in a frilly apron, brother!”</p><p>Funetaro's breath forced out of his nose.</p><p>Ayako giggled. “Oh, but you would wear it so well.”</p><p>Catching himself, Akihito shook his head. “Sorry … you really did do us a solid. Specially getting her to sleep.”</p><p>Ayako sat down and sipped her tea. “How long?”</p><p>“Couple of hours.”</p><p>“Well, that's more than the past couple of days.”</p><p>Over from the crib, she started to stir. Her eyes opened.</p><p>Akihito pushed up from the couch and leaned over the crib. “Mornin' sunshine.”</p><p>She giggled and reached for him as he picked her up.</p><p>His nose wrinkled. “Ok, someone's ripe … ” he eyed her colorful fingers. “And in need of a bath.”</p><p>“I can get it, Aki … ”</p><p>He waved to Ayako, “I got this. I have a bit before we have to get ready for work.”</p><p>She called out behind him. “I appreciate it.”</p><p>Muku's little hand rubbed his cheek, warm and soft. “Daddy bright eyes.”</p><p>“Yes, sweetie. That's what happens when you let Mommy and Daddy get some sleep.”</p><p>She giggled as they entered the bathroom. “No sleep for Muku!”</p><p>Starting the water and testing the temp, he muttered. “Oh yeah? I just need to keep Uncle Moki around.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was a lovely day, if not a bit warm as they were reminded it was the height of summer. Still, it was nice sitting outside in a nearby park eating from the bento boxes Ayako had packed for both of them this morning.</p><p>Beneath the shade of a tree with his jacket off, Narihisago leaned back on one elbow munching on his fish and rice. His eyes idly watched the people also enjoying their lunches.</p><p>Beside him, also in his shirtsleeves, Momoki picked at the meal. “This doesn't feel right. It's like I'm stealing from you guys.”</p><p>“Aww come on, Ayako wanted to do it. Trust me, she was grinning and going on about how fun it was to do this for her big brother again.”</p><p>“You're hardly as well off as I am.”</p><p>He shrugged, taking a sip of the cold tea. “Well enough off after the recent promotion. That bump in my paycheck has been a big help. Relax, we still owe you for last night.”</p><p>“You let me know if I ever impose.”</p><p>“You mean,” he pointed with the chopsticks, “if you ever act like your dad.”</p><p>Suddenly Momoki became very interested in catching a specific piece of rice.</p><p>Narihisago chuckled. “Sorry, I can't help it, profiling comes naturally.”</p><p>“You're right, that's what makes you tough to be around sometimes. Can't hide anything from you.” He heaved a sigh. “But you're still right. Maybe I should move out.”</p><p>“You might regret it. That is one hell of a place.”</p><p>“It is … but sometimes I just feel—”</p><p>Narihisago's phone rang, he reached into his pocket and pulled it out, answering it automatically, “Hey Ayako, what's up?”</p><p>Over the line she sounded like she was smiling. <em>“Aki, I was wondering if you could stop by the bakery and pick up some of those fruit tarts?”</em></p><p>“Of course, I can do that on the way home. Cherry for you, and a strawberry one for Muku—this time minus the extra whipped cream, she's energetic enough.”</p><p>“<em>That would be perfect. Thank you.”</em></p><p>“You and your sweet tooth. It's no big deal, not even out of the way.”</p><p>There was a slight pause, Muku babbling a song in the background. “Aki? Do you think Funetaro would spend the night again?”</p><p>He hid a sideways glance, not that he had to hide it, Momoki was still trying to stab a single grain of rice. “I don't know. You'll have to ask him.”</p><p>“<em>You're both on lunch, right?”</em></p><p>“Mmm hmm.” He knew what that meant.</p><p>“<em>Ok, see you after work! Thanks again. Love you, Aki!”</em></p><p>“Love you Ay—” Before he could finish she hung up. He just smiled, hiding his fingers on the other side of his hip. <em>3, 2, 1 …</em></p><p>Momoki jumped as his phone squawked in his pocket. He pulled it out and stared daggers Narihisago, answering, “Ayako? Why—”</p><p>Watching him with a broad mischievous grin, Narihisago savored the flabbergasted expression as it grew.</p><p>“Uhh, well, you see sis, I'd love you, but … It's just that … yes but … I need to get some sleep too … Seriously, no. I can't.”</p><p>Narihisago held up his phone, making a show of flipping through text messages. “Oh hey, your dad's throwing another party.”</p><p>There wasn't even a breath. “See you tonight, sis.”</p><p>When he hung up the phone, he ran a hand through his hair. “What is it with him! Who is it now, some dignitary with a daughter?”</p><p>“Just your brother. This weekend.”</p><p>Momoki's jaw dropped, he shoved Narihisago. “You fibber!”</p><p>He rolled in the grass, laughing his ass off. “I didn't lie!”</p><p>“You knew that would be my reaction! And now that I told her I would I can't back out. Damn you!”</p><p>“I swear that wasn't a set up, … well not completely. Oh come on, Ayako loves it when you come over. We should just put your name on the lease and make you a key.”</p><p>“I am going to get you back for this. That was low.”</p><p>Still laughing Narihisago resettled beside him, laying back in the grass gazing at the clouds through the gap in the tree branches.</p><p>“You have no idea how much I envy you.”</p><p>“Me?” Narihisago raised an eyebrow. “Oh come on, who's fibbing now.”</p><p>He looked wistful up at the sky, the angle would have made it harder to see the buildings. “Growing up out in the country away from all this traditional stuff.”</p><p>“Hah! You have the wrong impression. First off Fukui proper isn't really small, I just lived on the outskirts. Second, my dad is very traditional. Just a smaller … uhh, less prominent family.”</p><p>“You didn't have to wear all this formal stuff, and behave like a dignitary all the time.”</p><p>“Oh that. No. We rarely got visitors, and no one expected me to be anything but … me. But you know, I also didn't have any siblings to hang around with. I spent most of my time up in this big old tree.”</p><p>Momoki leaned on a hand as he listened, as he often did when Narihisago talked about his childhood.</p><p>“Dad and I built this rickety tree house up there, I used to watch the birds. Wonder if it's still there?” He grinned, blushing a bit. “Funny story, I watched some birds hatch one spring. That spawned an interesting discussion over dinner. Mom had to explain quite a few things to me about life. You know … like not everything comes from an egg.”</p><p>Spurting a mouthful of tea, Momoki burst into laughter. “You can't be serious!”</p><p>“Well, I wasn't very old when I got that impression. It's actually one of my first memories. She laughed harder than you just did. Needless to say we had a long talk and that was my introduction to the miracle of books.”</p><p>“Had to be nice seeing all that wildlife. You must miss it after moving to Tokyo.”</p><p>“Not really, it's been quite a few years now, I've acclimated.” He watched the tree branches shift in the breeze above him. “But why miss it? Why do you think Ayako and I take so many road trips on my days off?”</p><p>“The parks, of course.”</p><p>“Yup, just gotta know where to find it.”</p><p>A shadow fell across them, Narihisago glanced over to find a young girl clutching a stack of papers, worry in her eyes. She tugged one of the fliers out and held it up. “Have you seen my Haru?”</p><p>On the poster along with a phone number there was a color photo of a brown furred dog with golden eyes, the ears were slightly upright, the tips folded over. A smudge of white blazed up one side of the wide muzzle. Looked to be a fluffy coated herding breed of some sort, like a border collie?</p><p>Narihisago shook his head. “Sorry, can't say I have.”</p><p>The light of hope faded in her eyes as tears welled. “Someone must've seen her. She wouldn't have run away. Haru was good. She always stayed nearby. But now she's gone.”</p><p>He sat up and brushed the grass from his hands, taking the flier from her. “You're in luck though. We're police officers.”</p><p>She hopped on her feet. “You are? You can find her!”</p><p>“Ehh, well, unfortunately that isn't our department.” He wasn't about to mention what that was. “But, I'll tell you what, we're just about done with lunch. On my way back why don't I file a report with the Missing Pooches Department.”</p><p>“You would do that?” She scrubbed the tears from her eyes.</p><p>“Least I can do. And I'll keep my eyes open for Haru, will that work?”</p><p>“Thank you!” She practically tackled him crushing the flier between them.</p><p>Narihisago grinned, holding himself from falling back only by locked his elbows.</p><p>“I gotta go tell my parents. Thank you again, mister!” She raced off across the park toward a couple also laden with a stack of fliers.</p><p>Momoki eyed him and whispered, “There is no such department.”</p><p>“She doesn't know that. But I am going to file a report anyway. Poor kid.”</p><p>“You're making waves again.”</p><p>“It's the right thing to do. Beat officers can keep an eye out.” With his phone, he snapped a photo of the flier. “Besides, it's not that big of a deal.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>~ID~</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Matsuoka stared down his nose, standing beside Narihisago's desk. He didn't even look up, instead trying to catch Momoki's eyes across their desks. But Momoki was suddenly engrossed in the form he was filling out after bemoaning it for the last ten minutes. He'd been warned and was on his own for this one.</p><p>“Narihisago, what department is this?” Loud toe-tapping on the floor.</p><p>“Homicide.” He swished his pen back and forth over the form he'd been working on.</p><p>“Are you confused about the meaning of the word homicide?”</p><p>“No, sir. I have a pretty definitive idea what that means.”<em> After all this damn paperwork I've written it enough. One of these days we'll get an actual case instead of just writing about others.</em></p><p>Slamming his hand down on the desk, Matsuoka held up a tablet with a file on it. “What in the hell is this?”</p><p>Narihisago glanced at it, and returned his eyes to the safety of the redundant form. “It's a missing pet report.”</p><p>“Filed today, by, oh let me see here, one Akihito Narihisago. Tell me, is there another man by this name?”</p><p>“No.” He set his pen down and glanced up. “I wasn't even on the clock. We were coming back from the park after lunch. It took me five minutes. It's not a big deal, it's not like it opens a full investigation. The cops out on patrol can help.”</p><p>“They have jobs to do.”</p><p>He smirked. “Yeah, we're not that far removed that duty. I remember. It's not hard to keep an eye out.”</p><p>Matsuoka shook the tablet. “Keep on task.”</p><p>“Seriously, we got approached by a young girl. What was I supposed to do?”</p><p>“I mean it, Narihisago! I've got my eye on you.” He stormed off back toward his office, slamming the door.</p><p>Momoki glanced up. “Told you, making waves.”</p><p>“Thanks for the backup, Nanny Moki.”</p><p>He blanched and looked around, no one was within earshot. Pointing with his pen he stabbed the air between them and hissed, “Don't you ever say that here again!”</p><p>He rolled his eyes. “I'm telling you, that man is looking for reasons to hate me. Why doesn't he want us on a case, I wonder?”</p><p>“Here's an idea if you ever want to leave this desk for an actual case,” Momoki pointed at the half filled in form, “stay on task.”</p><p>“You sound just like him.” Narihisago wedged his chin into his hand and eyed the closed door. “Speaking of cases, for all his senior ass bluster, I don't see him out in the field. Too busy ordering everyone else around from his <em>special</em> office.”</p><p>Momoki slowly lifted a stunned gaze from his own desk. “You do know … we're in the office, I can't believe you just said that.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>~ID~</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Rain pelted the office windows, the storm obliterated the morning sun. Not that Narihisago looked that way as he arrived at his desk now buried in forms. He eyed Matsuoka's office door and heaved a sigh. <em>More office keeping. I should have been expecting this.</em></p><p>“Oh, hey,” Momoki adjusted his tie. “If you talk to Ayako, thank her for packing lunch today.”</p><p>Flopping down in his chair, Narihisago grabbed the top form and started filling it out. “I'll make it easy for you. You're welcome.”</p><p>Settling into his own chair, Momoki blinked. “You packed it?”</p><p>He nodded. “You sure took a long shower this morning. Ayako took care of cleaning up Muku from Nanny Moki time … ”</p><p>Flinching, he shushed him. “Not here!”</p><p>“Anyway, I packed our boxes. That's how we do things. One of us has Muku duty, the other preps lunch.”</p><p>He offered a slight smile. “I forget that you know how to cook.”</p><p>“My mom taught me,” he muttered absently.</p><p>A loud whisper carried across the shifting paperwork in the room. “Wait a second, does Matsuoka know?”</p><p>“Oh <b>I</b> didn't tell him about it, but I wasn't the one who heard the comment. Anyway, heads down guys, when that door opens things are about to get tense.”</p><p>Narihisago glanced up to see the knot of detectives grinning toward him. One of them flicked their eyes toward the office door.</p><p><em>The comment … ? Oh shit, </em> <em> <b>that</b> </em> <em> comment!</em></p><p>Slamming his pen down he stood up, running a finger under his suddenly too tight collar, “Momoki, I don't think I'm ever going to be anything more than a glorified desk jockey.”</p><p>“Not if you don't learn to shut your mouth.”</p><p>Dashing across the floor he reached the door just as a red faced Matsuoka tore it open and glared out. “Just the little prick I wanted to see.”</p><p>“Matsuoka, sir, I can explain! You see, there was context—”</p><p>Poking Narihisago in the chest, he forced him back out onto the floor. “I see rookies like you waltz in here all the time thinking they can do this job. I can tell just by looking at you that you're a failure.”</p><p>Narihisago tensed, fishing for words, knowing everyone was watching in the silent office. “I can explain what's going on, it's just that—”</p><p>“You see your desk?” Matsuoka snapped. “Get used to that view. Catch my drift? If I have anything to say about you will <b>never</b> see a single case.”</p><p>Inches from one another, Narihisago fought to keep his eyes in a hard stare, but it faltered. The truth was, the man had the authority to crush his career.</p><p>Across the room Chief Tominaga's door opened. “Momoki. Narihisago.”</p><p>They answered in unison, “Sir.”</p><p>He walked over to Narihisago, the closer of the two, and held up a tablet. “Got a case for you.”</p><p>Narihisago's eyes widened as he reached up and cautiously took the tablet, Matsuoka all but forgotten as he couldn't believe what was now in his hands. He was holding their first case file. A slow smile grew on his face.</p><p>“Chief!” Matsuoka's voice cracked. “Assigning the cases to the juniors is my duty!”</p><p>He crossed his arms. “Not this one. Came special request for these two.”</p><p>“Special request! From who?”</p><p>Momoki silently stood at Narihisago's side as he flicked through the preliminary images. One in particular caught his attention. Narihisago barked a laugh, “<em>That</em> explains it.” He flashed the image to Momoki.</p><p>Instantly Momoki buried his face. “He didn't!”</p><p>Not even saying it, Narihisago looked back at the ring on the edge of one of the photos, inconspicuous to any who hadn't endured a lengthy story of the origin over dinner. None other than Commissioner Momoki's. He flicked through the rest of the images letting the chief banter with Matsuoka in the background. Looked like a wooded field of some sort, standard crime scene place documentation.“Huh, doesn't look too bad … oohhh, heh, except for that.”</p><p>Momoki leaned over and stared at the screen, flinching at the first glance. “What is that?”</p><p>“A kidney … or maybe liver tissue? Don't know, from this angle it's hard to tell. That's not the whole thing either, just part of it. Cut via a blade, this wasn't a scavenger.” Gripping the tablet he pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “You driving or should I?”</p><p>Momoki pulled his keys out of his pocket. “I will, you take that time to read over the preliminaries.”</p><p>“But Chief!” Matsuoka shouted, “They're rookies.”</p><p>“This is not up for debate. They have been entrusted with this.”</p><p>“They can't handle this.”</p><p>“If you have a problem, then supervise them directly. But the case is theirs. End of discussion.”</p><p>Narihisago turned and tossed his pen onto his desk with a quick grin before he waved his departure. “See yah, Chief!”</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>~ID~</b>
</p><p> </p><p>The drive had taken a while toward a park on the western outskirts of the metropolis. Matsukagedaiyamanote was a quaint park, but that wasn't quite where they were headed. Back toward the wooded edge a roped off area waited for them. A woman walking her dog along the woods had spotted it. Or as the story told, her dog smelled it and started acting funny. Luckily for her the corpse was on the other side of a fence.</p><p>From the passenger seat, Narihisago had already pulled up a map, getting a lay of the land and describing it as Momoki watched the road. The park proper was just the entrance to the scene. Beyond that lay an old quarry bordered in a forest. From the best he could tell that quarry wasn't currently in operation. Aside from the woods, there was a catch basin for run off water to the far northeast. The rest of the landscape was covered in a vast woodland, except for a nearby neighborhood, the reason for the park.</p><p>The early morning rain storm had abated, it hadn't hit as hard this far west, leaving the area damp. Police officers stood guard over the scene as Momoki and Narihisago crossed the open park field to the ambient sound of insects loudly calling out to one another. Coming against the fence, it was an easy enough climb getting over and dropping into the thin wood's edge.</p><p>Without even glancing at the closest officer on guard, Narihisago narrowed his eyes and approached the corpse, or rather parts of it spread in the underbrush.</p><p>The officer raised a hand. “Hey, what are you doing?”</p><p>Momoki produced his badge. “First Investigation Division. I'm Momoki, that's Narihisago. We're both homicide detectives assigned to the case.”</p><p>“Oh thank God. Man I want to get this over with. It's been a couple hours now.” He covered his nose. “The stench is vile.”</p><p>That couldn't be argued. Even from here he had to breathe through his mouth, trying not to taste the putrid odor. The summer heat wasn't helping any.</p><p>The officer eyed Narihisago bending over the remains and painstakingly shifting the leaves with a stick. “How can he get that close and not pass out?”</p><p>Narihisago glanced up. “What <em>this</em>? Heh, you think this is bad? You should try scrubbing out sake fermentation vats in the middle of the summer. Now <em>that</em> will clear your sinuses, doesn't matter one iota how bad they're blocked. Wide open after a whiff of that.”</p><p>“Wait a second, sake? As in Narihisago Sake out of Fukui?”</p><p>“Yeah, that's my father's business.”</p><p>“No shit! You helped make that?”</p><p>He went back to observing the remains. “For a while, yeah. But it wasn't my passion.”</p><p>Momoki cracked a grin. “Bet you can guess what his real passion is.”</p><p>That had been obvious to Momoki early on in their remarkable friendship. Things had not been going well from the moment his father had dropped Momoki off at the academy touting the wonders he would do. His father had never even asked if he wanted to be on the force. It was just assumed without discussion that he'd follow in his father's footsteps.</p><p>Trapped in the dilemma of how to get through this inescapable disconnect, Momoki had been wandering the courtyard when a sound startled him over his head. He'd looked up into the branches of a tree to find the strangest bird he'd ever seen—no not a bird, he realized, but another student half in uniform, perched in the tree with his academy sweater tied around his waist, reading a book. When Momoki called up to ask what he was doing, Narihisago's blunt answer was, “Outwitting the detective.”</p><p>Narihisago knew without a doubt what he wanted to do with his life. And the confidence in his eyes spoke volumes. Quickly around campus it became obvious that the rural boy from the other side of the country was an outsider. Despite his rapid answers in classes, no one seemed eager to pair up with him. All the while, because of his own connections, Momoki found himself relentlessly fawned over. All his classmates wanted was a leg up. Meanwhile, as Momoki cut an average grade on the exercises, the one student who kept his nose buried in a murder mystery book hidden behind the actual book for whatever class he was in, started to nonchalantly teach the teachers. Narihisago needed a friend, and Momoki needed a study partner, someone who could make this interesting for him.</p><p>Despite the waves it made, their firm partnership was formed. And while the other students argued over who had to perform the gross tasks, Momoki never even had to ask. His quirky friend was all the more eager to do whatever it took to get to the clues, no matter how gruesome the setup while Momoki acted as his sounding board. In all their time in those classes, there was one team that never lost a single point, theirs.</p><p>Until it came to combat training … Momoki tried to coach him with all the skills his private martial arts lessons had imparted, but while Narihisago could mimic the maneuvers, he struggled to put any force behind them, hesitating because he didn't want to hurt anyone. It was Momoki's turn to return the favor and talk their instructor into letting him pass. There was nothing that Narihisago wanted more than to be a detective. They were always backed up by armed officers. The point had proved valid. And had offered Momoki the deviation he was looking for.</p><p>Narihisago unabashedly showed him a path to a different future, one not entirely laid out by his father. All Momoki had to do was remove one obstacle to allow a pacifist to graduate from the program. There was no looking back.</p><p>Narihisago sure was a strange one … but he was damn good at what he did. It was more than time to prove he wasn't a failure by any means.</p><p>“Momoki, this isn't human.”</p><p>He cocked his head. “Ok, what is it?”</p><p>“Not enough left to tell for sure. No head, end of the limbs are missing. But it's too small. Not a child either.” Shifting a leaf he exposed some of the bones. “See the pelvic orientation? Too narrow. That's all wrong for a human.”</p><p>“Great. So our first case and the victim isn't a person.” Out of the corner of his eyes, Momoki watched as Matsuoka climbed over the fence. <em>If that isn't enough, now him too. We'll never hear the end to this.</em></p><p>Standing up, Narihisago cocked his head. “There's something else.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>He took a deep sniff of the air. “This is way too much rank for something this small.” Without another word, he dashed off deep into the enveloping forest.</p><p>Momoki and the talkative officer followed on his heels as the wet branches slapped at them, dampening their clothing. They crested a hill and came to his side where he'd paused looking down into a glade.</p><p>“However, that does explain it.” Before them, scattered amidst the trees and undergrowth, lay countless mutilated remains in various stages of decomposition.</p><p>The wind caught them full in the face. The officer instantly covered his nose and mouth, an unflattering belch left him as he turned and fled a few feet into the forest.</p><p>Narihisago called out over his shoulder, “Check for evidence before you hurl, please!”</p><p>That was his partner. The fact that Momoki's stomach only slightly turned was a testament to the time he had spent at the academy around Narihisago who had never once shied away from the more realistic set ups while their classmates turned various shades of unhealthy colors.</p><p>Skidding down into the glade, Narihisago started to wend his way through the mess. He shook his head repeatedly, stooping closer to more than one.</p><p>Considering the mess he was wading through, Ayako was gonna kill him when he came home. “What do we got?”</p><p>“Well, none of these are human,” he called back.</p><p>“Illegal dumping of livestock?” Momoki caught the sound of Matsuoka's steps breaking through the undergrowth, cursing the whole way.</p><p>“Would be if these were livestock. But that's not the case.”</p><p>“Are you sure?”</p><p>He reached down and picked something up before climbing back up beside him. When he opened his hand a tag lay in it. Momoki plucked it up and studied it. “Wait, this is a … ”</p><p>“Pet ID tag. No, it's not Haru's, I checked. Wrong phone number.”</p><p>Momoki's breath caught in his chest. There must have been hundreds of carcasses.</p><p>Snatching the tag, Matsuoka snorted. “Pets again? Hah, the first case you get isn't even a legit homicide.”</p><p>“Depends who you ask.” Narihisago blandly remarked. “To some, pets are family.”</p><p>“Animals are property.”</p><p>Eyeing him, Narihisago plunged back into the mass grave following the trail of corpses deeper into the wood.</p><p>Matsuoka handed the tag back to Momoki, keeping his voice down, “Look rookie, I know who you are. Your name is enough to carry you through. But, let me offer a bit of advice, ditch the nature nut and get a different partner.”</p><p>“Let me offer <em>you</em> a bit of advice.” Momoki kept his eyes on the distant bob of Narihisago's head, he could see him wandering along the edge of something that sparkled like water just past the treeline. Narihisago crouched down and peered in curiously. He fetched a stick and returned to the steep bank of the catch pond. With his arms crossed, Momoki pointed a single finger his way. “<em>Never</em> underestimate my partner.”</p><p>Matsuoka's brow furrowed. “I'll be on the sidelines waiting to take over.”</p><p>“Police officers have been out here for a few hours and never discovered any of this. He's been here ten minutes.”</p><p>A smirk grew.</p><p>It was wiped away when Narihisago's hand shot into the air. “We're gonna need dive recovery out here.”</p><p>Cupping a hand, Momoki called out, “Got a body?”</p><p>“Ahhh, more than one.”</p><p>“Human?”</p><p>“Definitely.”</p><p>Momoki shifted his gaze to Matsuoka and waited for the man to balk. It didn't take long. Pulling out his phone he did his end of the arrangement. “Hey, got an update on the case. We request assistance. Here's what we need … ”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Four bodies now lay on tarps beside the quarry's catch basin. Along with those, several partial animal corpses Narihisago had deemed as key evidence had been carefully logged and extracted from the glade. Heat waves radiated up in the afternoon sunlight. By now Chief Tominaga had arrived with the requested specialized units, curious about what had gone from routine to bizarre. The majority of the amassed crew working the scene wore nose plugs or had smeared vapor rub under their noses, the coroner among them. Given the age of the dumping ground, this was a particularly gruesome scene now as Momoki made notes on the tablet, struggling to keep up with the key strokes. He had to make a choice which to listen to, Narihisago's rapid remarks or the beleaguered coroner trying to beat him to the observations made over his shoulder. It really was like watching a real life Sherlock Holmes, with all the frustration of trying to read between the lines.</p><p>“Four corpses in different stages of decomposition. Two males, two females. All discovered devoid of clothing, submerged in fresh water,” began the coroner.</p><p>“All middle aged individuals, look to be on the younger side.” Narihisago leaned over, pointing to them in order. “The oldest at least a month deceased and disposed of. That one was roughly two weeks. One week ago. And this last, hrmm, twenty-four hours tops.”</p><p>At Momoki's side as he noted his colleague's observations, Matsuoka's brow furrowed, brooding. He hadn't said a word since the phone call, nor had he backed off. Momoki's feelings were mixed when it came to that man. He had certainly earned his ranking in the force with an impressive number of solved cases. Matsuoka was known for his rigid methodology, which produced clear cut results and some of the firmest sentences in the courts. But with that came a rather hard edge. That went at complete odds to Narihisago's intuition. The man had hunches and followed them without a lot of communication, leaving colleagues to dash after him in his wake. Momoki had gotten used to the quirks, they were worth it to get the results. Matsuoka clearly wanted to know everything real time. That wasn't going to happen with Narihisago in the field, not with his focus. And now that Narihisago had stumbled on the heart of the mystery nothing could slow him down. He hoped that Matsuoka would come to understand that, or things would get really dicy if he tried to force him off the case. Take over? Hah! The only chance of that would be over Narihisago's dead body. Momoki stiffened at that thought, hoping it wouldn't come to that.</p><p>“Cause of death … ”</p><p>Squatting down, Narihisago spoke right over the coroner, pointing to the back of the latest victim's neck. “That's odd. An infected wound. The flesh is inflamed, but the initial wound wasn't too recent. Surgical? There were stitches, but they were removed. Signs of healing, but it's been reopened. Why?”</p><p>The coroner bent over, narrowing his eyes. “What the hell? How did you spot that?” He frantically waving a gloved hand up at Momoki. “Don't put that in the report!”</p><p>Momoki raised an eyebrow, not even having time to spare for such a thing given the rapid patter of conversation.</p><p>The chief came a bit closer, curious about the observation. “Well, I'll be … ”</p><p>Shifting to the next one, Narihisago used a gloved hand to tip the head. “It's harder to see, but this one too. The same effect.” Down the line to the two week old corpse the flesh had degraded submerged in the water. “Maybe? It looks to be … wait—between the cervical vertebrae, right where those cuts are. There's scar tissue!”</p><p>The coroner took out his tools and carefully examined the most recent victim. Immediately he looked up at the chief. “There's a scar here too, and it's been reopened bone deep.”</p><p>Over by the oldest one, Narihisago shook his head. “Other than the obvious scalpel nick in the same gap, we won't get much from this one.”</p><p>Momoki finished typing in the observation and looked up. “What would the point of doing this be?”</p><p>Nearly forgetting, Narihisago almost went into a thinking man's position before realizing he had soiled exam gloves on. Aborting the gesture with a wrinkle of his nose he looked between the four corpses. “Neck surgery of some sort? The incisions are deep, into the spinal column, but not fully through it. This is not an easy space to access.”</p><p>The coroner nodded, with nothing to add.</p><p>“We can see the best from the newest victim. There is some skill to this, but if that's the case, why the infection?”</p><p>It was a nagging question in the back of his mind, Momoki couldn't wait any longer to ask it. “And all the animal corpses. Do you think they're connected?”</p><p>Narihisago nodded and drifted over to them. He picked up the spinal column of a mid-sized creature and pointed between the same vertebrae. “Scalpel marks.”</p><p>“Holy shit!” The coroner covered his mouth with the back of his wrist. “Sorry, that was unprofessional of me.”</p><p>The chief waved it off, his gaze focused on the animal corpses Narihisago had segregated, one after the next he commented, “Here, here … and here. Well, now. This just got strange. How long do we figure these go back in time?”</p><p>Narihisago mused as he stared back into the woods. “Factoring in season changes, this place has been a dumping ground for at least six months by the worst decay. The animals were all butchered in a way that makes identifying them difficult. No pelts, no heads or paws.”</p><p>“Paws?”</p><p>“I suspect these are dogs and cats. But that's just a cursory hunch.” Observing the rural setting he shook his head. “We won't get any tire tracks after that storm this morning. And there won't be any cameras out here. It is an ideal location for disposal. If done at night, no one is likely to notice anything. Deep in the woods the scent wouldn't have been noticed. Heck, if they hadn't gotten careless and the first one fallen near the fence, this place might not have been noticed at all.”</p><p>The chief looked all around, holding a finger to his ear com as the insects chirruped. “Divers are finishing now, but it looks like we got everything there. And by the sounds of it, the uni's canvasing that nearby neighborhood have come up with nothing.”</p><p>Momoki scratched his chin. “Which leaves us with one hell of a mystery. What kind of a sick-o would do this?”</p><p>The chief ran his gloved finger along the incision of the latest. “The Stitcher.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>~ID~</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Narihisago sat on the edge of his desk in a perfect imitation of the Thinker statue as he stared at the murder board's spread. In dry erase marker he had scribbled out the chief's declaration: The Stitcher. Photos of the evidence stuck to the board, as of yet no real connections. That was what bothered him. He felt it in his bones, there was a pattern, but there weren't enough pieces to put it all together yet. No one would go to all this work for no reason. The animals hadn't been taken for meat, the muscles and organs on the fresher kills were mostly intact. That was the part that had him staring, a couple of the fresher carcasses showed signs of an infection around a spinal incision. Why?</p><p>Momoki walked up from behind, talking into his phone, “Alright, keep us posted.” He hung up and put it in his pocket. “They're still running the photos through the missing persons database. Sounds like high hopes for the most recent remains. But the older two will take a bit longer. Might come down to dental records because of the bloating and decomposition. This morning who would have thought we'd be helping to close four missing person cases.”</p><p>“Hmph.” He glanced between the photos in rapid succession. What was eluding him? He swore he could feel it staring him in the face. Mocking him.</p><p>“Narihisago? You hear me?”</p><p>“Yeah.” He didn't even look away. “I don't get it, why cut into the spinal column twice?”</p><p>Momoki stood closer to the board, his gaze wandering over the close up shots of the neck incisions. “Why do it even once? I'm sorry, but the thing that gets me is all the animal corpses on top of it. No doubt these are connected. Hey, don't they say that serial killers start with animal cruelty?”</p><p>“They can.” He sighed. “Something about learning on helpless victims. The statistics support that idea to the point of overwhelming. Somewhere around—” he stopped short as the sound of something being spritzed produced a massive sneeze Narihisago barely caught with his hand.</p><p>They both peered over their shoulders to see, Sho Shingi, one of the fellow detectives pinching their nose holding a spray bottle of what looked like cologne aimed at Narihisago. “You smell like death.”</p><p>In answer, Narihisago pointed to the photos on the board.</p><p>Holding up a hand Momoki eyed Shingi. “That's not really helping.”</p><p>“Nor is bringing that stench in here and practically killing everyone else. Phew!” He walked off, pocketing the bottle.</p><p>“Who carries that stuff around?” Narihisago sniffed his jacket sleeve and shrugged. “Not that bad, is it?”</p><p>Momoki purposefully looked away.</p><p>“Seriously. You too?”</p><p>“I guess I'm more used to it.”</p><p>The chief approached them looking at the clock. “Got anything?”</p><p>They shook their heads.</p><p>“Well, it's been a long day, with a good start. Call it a day for now. By tomorrow hopefully they'll have our most recents IDed and maybe we can find a connection there.”</p><p><em>Call it a day?</em> Narihisago fought the urge to sigh. That wasn't going to happen now. But orders were orders. He reached back and shut his laptop.</p><p>“You're not going to call it a day.” Momoki folded his arms.</p><p>“You know me enough by now.” He grinned. “Who knows, maybe your dad will come up with something over dinner with you tonight.”</p><p>Momoki froze, his eyes slowly traveling to Narihisago. “Shit! I didn't even think about … uhh, can I … ?”</p><p>He laughed. “I won't say no. But seriously, when are you going to talk to him?”</p><p>“Not tonight, ok? Who knows, maybe you and I can make a breakthrough.”</p><p>Pointing a finger, he eyed Momoki. “No discussing murder in front of Muku. That's a hard and fast rule.”</p><p>“Ok, got it. Makes sense.”</p><p>Flipping his car keys, Narihisago called back, “See you in a few.”</p><p>“Hey, Narihisago, take a shower.”</p><p>“Oh, Ayako will make sure I do.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>~ID~</b>
</p><p> </p><p>After dinner, lounging on the couch they were all dressed more or less for bed. Post shower, even before dinner, Akihito had put on his plain t-shirt and sleep shorts. Funetaro had on something similar, only his shirt was from the academy. Ayako bounced Muku on her knee, wearing a practical pj set Akihito had given her for her birthday. It couldn't have been a more normal evening as they chatted about nothing in particular.</p><p>Akihito's cell phone rang. As usual without looking he picked it up. “Hello?”</p><p>“<em>Akihito, glad you answered,” </em>Commissioner Momoki announced from the other end. <em>“Say, I can't seem to reach Funetaro. He's not picking up his phone.”</em></p><p>
  <span>Eyeing Funetaro who was making faces at Muku, he thought, </span>
  <em>No, he muted his phone after the third phone call. </em>
</p><p>“<em>You wouldn't happen to know where he is?”</em></p><p>“Oh yeah, sure, he's right here.”</p><p>Funetaro stared at him, his jaw tightened. He waved his hands in the air frantically.</p><p>“<em>Great, would you mind handing your phone to him?”</em></p><p>“Sure thing.” He held it out.</p><p>Funetaro mouthed, “Asshole!” at first refusing to take it from him, but Akihito held it out, refusing to back down. At length, he sighed and took it. “Yeah? … Sorry, I've been busy … yes, with them … I'm helping, nothing more … no, I'm not avoiding you.”</p><p>Akihito rolled his eyes, earning a glare.</p><p>“Well, we figured we could talk about work tonight. You know how these things go … Yes, I got the text about the party this weekend, but we are in the middle of the assignment you gave us … Don't act shocked. Of course we know it was you. And you didn't need to do this, Dad … I mean it … I'll be back there when I'm done helping out … yes … tell, Mom I love her.” He hung up the phone and almost threw it at Akihito.</p><p>He caught it and tucked it away in his pocket. “I'm not gonna lie to him. Besides, if I hadn't answered, there's a chance he would have sent out a search party for you. I don't need SWAT scaring the neighbors by breaking down my door. Now he knows were you are, just not what you're up to. You're the liar.”</p><p>“Leave it alone, will you?”</p><p>Ayako handed Muku over to Akihito and grabbed Funetaro's arm. “Time to help, then, if that's what you're here for. In the kitchen, Akihito cooked the curry, so we have dish duty.”</p><p>Akihito bounced Muku on his knee. “That means you and I get some time together, kiddo.”</p><p>She giggled with glee. “Daddy horsie!”</p><p>“Daddy went for a long hike today, so his knee will have to be the horsie, kay?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <b>~ID~</b>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Funetaro hung the towel up. “Dishes done. No words about your big brother not earning his keep around here.”</p><p>Ayako chuckled. “You pitched in just fine, thank you. The next time I need a pot scrubbed I'm calling you.” She paused at the end of the counter, listening. A frown formed.</p><p>“What is it?”</p><p>“It's too quiet.”</p><p>Coming around the corner they found the sweetest sight. Akihito lay back on the couch, softly snoring. Riding on his chest, Muku lay there clinging like a tree frog. She sucked her thumb while her other hand gripped his pinky finger. Her ear pressed close to where his heart was. Both were out cold.</p><p>Funetaro smiled, reaching for his phone to snap a picture.</p><p>“Don't you dare.” Ayako held his wrist.</p><p>“What? It's the perfect future blackmail for both of them.”</p><p>Her stern eye abolished the thought. “Ok. Ok.”</p><p>“My poor Aki, he's all worn out.”</p><p>Hands in his pockets, Funetaro grinned. “He should be. We got our first case today. We were literally out in the field since this morning and he was all over it like a bloodhound.”</p><p>Her eyes lit up, but she kept her voice soft as they sat down at the other end of the couch. “Really? Your first case! No wonder he seemed excited …” she covered her nose, “<b>and</b> that explains the laundry.”</p><p>He nodded. “So he didn't mention it. That rule is a real thing.”</p><p>“What rule?”</p><p>“No talk of murder cases in front of Muku.”</p><p>“Oh yes. He and I agreed on that the moment he learned about his promotion. As great as the news is for you two on a case … ” Ayako narrowed her eyes, “… why are you avoiding Dad?”</p><p>He looked to the floor. “Did he tell you?”</p><p>“Aki mentioned it, yes. Not to mention that phone call. I know who that was earlier.” She placed a hand on his. “Brother, what's wrong?”</p><p>It was too heavy to lift his gaze. “He's been on me about responsibility again.”</p><p>She put a finger beneath his chin and lifted it. “It's up to you to carry on the family legacy. You are the first born.”</p><p>“I didn't ask to be.”</p><p>“Well, talk to him.”</p><p>He sighed, clenching a fist. “It's not that easy.”</p><p>“Nor is babysitting your three-year old niece.” She winked. “But you faced that.”</p><p>They both glanced over at little Muku riding up and down in slumbering bliss. Akihito's slack face, each breath on the verge of snoring.</p><p>Akihito … that reminded him. “I don't get it, all I wanted was the chance to choose my own path.”</p><p>“Funetaro, your life isn't locked in stone. Talk to him. Dad may talk a lot, but he isn't as unreasonable as you make him out to be.” Ayako patted his hand. Then, she got up and gently pried Muku's grasp from her father's finger. Blessedly she remained conked out. “Now it's time for this little mite to go to her crib so I can get her daddy into actual bed.”</p><p>Tenderly, Ayako tucked her in the crib, kissing her cheek. Leaning over Akihito she brushed a finger through is hair. “Aki … Aki honey, time for bed.”</p><p>He shifted, opening his bleary eyes with a yawn. “Wha?”</p><p>She laughed and held his hands, pulling him upright. “Come on, you need to come to bed so Brother has a place to sleep.”</p><p>Funetaro cracked a crooked smile as he watched a rather zombified Akihito shuffle along guided by his wife, leaving him to their surprisingly comfortable sofa.</p><p>Ayako softly called out, “Night Brother. Think about it, ok?”</p><p>Lying back on the couch, he tugged the blanket up and that's all he thought about. Closing his eyes did little to stop the ice cold dread of the future. All the expectations because he was his father's son. Everyone expected the world of him, that long shadow stretched further than he could run. He had to be successful on the force, a rising star in the First Division. He should have had a wife and a son by now to carry on the family name, and a thousand other details that kept coming up ad nauseam.</p><p>The hours ran onward into the middle of the night. Restless, Funetaro found himself standing in their bedroom doorway hoping to find Akihito awake so he could talk. His hopes were dashed.</p><p>Akihito lay on his side, his left arm drapped over Ayako. His gold wedding band caught the hall light. Ayako lay nestled up snug to him. Her head fit perfect beneath his chin. Both smiled blissfully in their sleep.</p><p>Perfection. That was what that looked like to him. His younger sister, had found the perfect companion. All he heard at home was how important it was that he settle down and find someone. Wasn't he trying? Did he want them to find someone for him? Hire a matchmaker?</p><p>A small shadow shifted beside him. He glanced down to find a half awake Muku wandering in, clutching a floppy pink stuffed dog from her crib. He bent down and picked her up, whispering, “What's up, sweetie?”</p><p>“Uncle Moki? Thirsty.” Her eyes would barely focus, and yet she had somehow gotten out of her crib. Talent.</p><p>He turned for the kitchen. “Easy to fix.” Filling her sippy cup with juice, he handed it to her and carried her out to the living room. Sitting down on the couch he let the toddler lay against his side as she suckled on the cup, heavy eyelids closing.</p><p>It couldn't just be anyone. It had to be someone special. He circled his fingers on Muku's back as his niece drifted off to sleep. It had to hold the magic present in this dwelling. He would hold out until he found something akin to the magic his sister had found. His perfect match.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kenta Iwai and Mana Asato.</p><p>Their names now blazed on the dry erase board in black against white. Iwai had been the unfortunate most recent victim. A local science teacher, age thirty-eight. According to his file, he'd been reported missing roughly a month ago by his wife when he failed to return from a teachers conference. Asato was identified as the one week old victim, which full autopsy confirmed the time of death. Age thirty-six, she was a certified laboratory technician working on her PhD at the Research Institute for Science and Technology. Roughly six weeks ago she'd been reported missing, last known sighting was hanging out at a bar with colleagues, according to the report. Nothing had come up from that, her colleagues had imbibed a touch too much to be particularly helpful.</p><p>Last two victims, still as of yet, unknown.</p><p>That was all they currently had to go on.</p><p>Narihisago leaned on one elbow, holding his phone up. “Don't worry, I understand this is going to take time. Just wanted to confirm that the info we're talking about represents fifteen percent processed at this point?”</p><p>“<em>Roughly. But there has been no variance and the truth is we only got one guy down here that's got an eye for this without relying on DNA. You want that, heh, we're talking … shit, probably well over a month to run all this. Unless we kick out every other sample in the cue. I don't think anyone is gonna authorize that.”</em></p><p>“Fair enough. The visual analysis should be sufficient.” He tapped his pen on the desk. “Keep me updated. Anything unusual, no matter how minor it seems.”</p><p>“<em>Minor? Hah, given that we had to clear and dedicate an entire room to this lot and steal tables from the other rooms? Minor?”</em></p><p>“Hey, sooner we find this guy, sooner the chances you won't see more of this.”</p><p>“<em>Bright side.”</em><span> There was a long drawn out sigh.</span></p><p>“The bright side, indeed.” Hanging up, Narihisago tucked his phone in his pocket and eyed Momoki seated at his desk.</p><p>“I know that expression. You were right when you didn't want to be.”</p><p>Narihisago nodded, glancing at the photos of the animal carcasses. “No farm stock. Dogs and cats so far. Every single one of them confirmed by the skeletal structure. Damn, I didn't want that hunch to be right.”</p><p>Momoki leaned back in his chair, the older office equipment creaked under his insubstantial weight. “I noticed something coming into work today. There are a <em>lot</em> of missing animal posters around town. I never really paid attention until this came up. But to be honest this has to be more than typical. And the dates on some of these go back months.”</p><p>“There go a number of happy endings.” He tapped his heel on the floor, each motion causing his own chair to squeak repeatedly. “Something tells me those weren't all strays taken off the street.”</p><p>“How does something like this go unnoticed?”</p><p>Throwing a hidden glance toward Matsuoka's office door, he muttered low enough not to carry, “Animals are property.”</p><p>“In this case missing property.”</p><p>“Yeah, but most people other than the owners won't consider it grand larceny. Technically it should be.” The cadence of his pen tapping increased. “But heck, last time I looked stealing livestock was only considered high priority because the property is marketable. Pets generally aren't.”</p><p>Momoki nodded. “True, that is how the laws are written. You're worried about the kid from the other day.”</p><p>Narihisago stared down into his lap, pen suddenly discarded, arms crossed.</p><p>“Have they found a tag that matches?”</p><p>“Not yet.”</p><p>“Then we need to stay on the bigger picture. Especially you.” Standing up, Momoki wandered around to stand beside him, keeping his voice low, luckily no one else was around them. “I hate to bring this up, but Matsuoka is really watching us.”</p><p>He smirked. “No shit, Watson.”</p><p>Momoki blinked, “Who? … wait never mind. My point is that he's clearly convinced you don't belong in this department. He even told me to get a different partner.”</p><p>“That was cordial of him.”</p><p>“He has no clue what you are capable of, and he intends to take you off this case the moment he sees a chance.”</p><p>Narihisago snorted a laugh. “He does, does he? Fact is I don't need someone breathing down my ass to produce results.”</p><p>“I know that.” Momoki pointed to the board. “This should be proof enough, but something tells me he's expecting us to give up.”</p><p>“Ah huh. You know what this is about. It's because of that case he was consulting on the first day we walked in.” Narihisago pointed over to a coworker's desk across the room, the one who had shifted his chair.</p><p>Momoki clapped a hand on his forehead. “That casual comment you made that turned out to be right and cracked their whole case wide open.”</p><p>“I was just saying what the clues told me, nothing more. Now, I couldn't care less what he's expecting. This isn't about him. This isn't about me.” He glared at the murder board. “For their sake we're gonna solve this case.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <b>~ID~</b>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Two days passed with progress only inching forward.</p><p>“Got it, thanks.” Momoki hung up his phone and picked up the marker scribbling on the last two names in order of death. The dental records had finally provided identities.</p><p>The oldest and least identifiable victim, Yasu Tsukamoto. At forty-two years old she had been a librarian at the Research Institute for Science and Technology. Divorced several years ago. Went missing at least two months ago, due to a work vacation reported by her landlord after missing rent. The other, Hisashi Ota was a thirty-five year old phlebotomist at the general hospital. That case went back a month and a half when he'd called his wife to tell her he'd be late coming from his shift. His metro-transport pass was never used that night.</p><p>Narihisago held out a mug of coffee he'd just fetched to Momoki as he eyed the newest update, sipping from his own cup. “Doesn't take a discerning eye to notice the science connection here. And now we have two directly connected through a university.”</p><p>“Sounds like we need to take a little field trip.”</p><p>“A university library.” <em>All those books! </em>He grinned. “I'd say that's a good place to start. Tsukamoto and Asato might have known one another, or had a common connection.”</p><p>He glanced at the time. “Shit, we'll have to wait. It's closed for the weekend.”</p><p>“Damn. Well, in that case we better go get ready.”</p><p>“For what?” Momoki glanced up.</p><p>Narihisago reached into his pocket and pulled out a copy of his apartment key tossing it to his brother. “Here, you should have one anyway. In case you forgot, today is Saturday. We're invited to a dinner party.”</p><p>“You're actually going?”</p><p>He nodded. “Yes, Ayako wanted to. And Muku squealed at the idea of her grandparents again.”</p><p>“Narihisago!” He held out his hands. “What am I supposed to do?”</p><p>He pointed to the key in his hand. “You can keep hiding in my apartment if you want. Or, you can come to dinner. Your choice.”</p><p>Momoki heaved a sigh and followed behind.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <b>~ID~</b>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Funetaro held his breath as they stepped through the entrance. Home. But instead of comfort, his heart thudded in his chest. He longed to turn around and leave. Anywhere but here. Over the last week he had only stopped by long enough to grab what he'd needed, always managing to ghost out before his presence was noted. Today there was no escaping the pall already descending.</p><p>Muku's eyes widened as she looked into the twisted mask staring down at her. Wriggling her nose and squishing her eyes with her hands, she tried to mimic it before inhaling a lungful of air and releasing it in a mighty toddler war cry at the ancestral suit of armor. The action jostled the tiny sprigs of pigtails on the sides of her head, held up but yellow smiling sun hair twists.</p><p>Ayako chuckled as Akihito bounced little Muku on his hip, remarking, “Oh, so my little sunshine thinks she can take on that samurai, huh?”</p><p>“Yah!” Muku waved her hands in the air as if swishing a sword, and making the noises. “Whoosh! Whoosh!”</p><p>“My, I think you've frightened him. See? He's shivering.”</p><p>What Akihito called shivering was just the wind from the open door catching the fabric and feather decorations. Funetaro stood back with his hands in his pockets marveling at how they played make-believe, delving straight into her worlds with her. While the toddler had been tugged him along into her fantasies over the past week of him crashing at their apartment, it had boggled his mind how much was involved in raising a child. Even the subtle dynamics between Ayako and Akihito as they traded off duties like clockwork. There was so much more to this … being a family. He didn't know where to even start.</p><p>“Mamma, where my mask?”</p><p>“At home.”</p><p>Funetaro knew what she was referring to. A kitsune mask they had gotten her at a recent festival. She had shown it to him, putting it on and claiming to be invisible. It had been difficult not to burst into laughter as she stalked him around the living room.</p><p>“You don't need it. No waging war against dynasties til you're older.” Ayako mimicked taking her invisible sword away. “We don't want to offend your ancestor.”</p><p>Muku pulled on her bottom lip with a finger. “An-sister?”</p><p>“An-ces-tor.” Akihito slowed it down. “Really old dusty relative. A long time ago Mom and Uncle Moki's great-great-uhh, not sure how many of those, grandpa wore this armor.”</p><p>“Whoa!” Still riding on Akihito's hip, Muku looked at him. “You?”</p><p>“Uhh, no. Daddy's family doesn't have any warriors, sunshine. But we had an important role, growing food for people to eat.” He added just over his breath, “And alcohol to drink.”</p><p>“Yum! Food!” She pointed at Funetaro. “You a samurai?”</p><p>He shook his head, looking away from the relic. “No. That was another time. There's no samurai around today.”</p><p>Muku's gaze uncomfortably stayed on him. “Yes there are. You and Daddy protect.”</p><p>His gaze darted up to meet Akihito's as he smiled down at her. Momoki mused, “I guess you're right. In a way we are. Not quite the same thing, though. We carry badges instead of swords.”</p><p>Eyeing the sword mounted on the wall, Akihito shook his head. “I'll stick to the badge any day.”</p><p>“Brother!”</p><p>They turned to find Kichiro Momoki treading their way through the hall. Not that anyone was dressed up, this was a casual get together at the family mansion, shorts and t-shirts all around, even for Ayako, but Kichiro was certainly grunging it. He'd bleached his hair and dyed it two different colors, the long purple to blue locks hung down haphazard. His shorts and two layers of t-shirts were all slashed up, apparently on purpose. Instead of standing with good posture, he slouched, one shoulder slightly sloped. Funetaro knew why. It was from the guitar strap.</p><p>Kichiro threw his arms wide. “Great to see you! I thought you'd be around more so we could catch up, we've missed you.”</p><p>Diverting the hug into a handshake, Funetaro pointed over his shoulder. “I've been helping out.”</p><p>He followed the point. “Sis!” Throwing his arms around her he swept her off her feet. “You look great!” Backing up he grinned. “Akihito bro. Nice to see you, my man. And who is this?”</p><p>“You know Muku.”</p><p>His eyes widened as he reached out. “This is Muku? Wow have you grown! Come to your Uncle Kichiro!”</p><p>“Chiro!” She giggled as he scooped her into his arms.</p><p>Ayako hung off Akihito's arm. “And now we won't see her for the rest of the night.”</p><p>“She'll sleep well, though.” He gave her a peck on the cheek.</p><p>Standing on the edge of this, Funetaro watched as it all happened, like an outsider looking in, or a prop in the corner of a room. Kichiro carried Muku though the hall, swinging her as she laughed merrily. Ayako and Akihito followed along chatting about some of the décor in the house, the many old relics from ages past that made part of the sprawling household resemble a lived in museum.</p><p>The old style that he had grown up with was so different from the solid white painted walls of an apartment complex. He followed them past the old weapons and masks gilding the walls alongside the banners bearing kanji of wisdom, he heard Mother's joyous cries as Kichiro entered the room. “Muku! Oh my goodness, come to your grandma, she needs a little sunshine.”</p><p>Muku's laughter lit up the whole place, but not Funetaro as he lingered in the sitting room doorway watching everyone mingle. Father hugging Ayako and Muku, chatting animatedly as he held the little girl, weighing her in his arms. Mother smiling sweetly as Muku wriggled from lap to lap, restless to soak in everything. It all happened in spite of him.</p><p>Not far from him, Kichiro eyed Akihito. “Dude, I have been meaning to ask, how do you get your hair to stand up like that?”</p><p>He blinked and reached up, brushing his fingers through it. “Uhh, this? It just does it.”</p><p>“No way. Man, that would be such a rad look for the stage. Girls really dig it when hair stands up like that.” He winked. “And I'm tellin' ya, wait till you meet her. She is <em>way</em> more than a groupie. But she's so into spikey hair. I gotta jack your style.”</p><p>Ayako drifted over and smirked. “Don't let Aki fool you. His secret is my scalp massages.”</p><p>When she ran her hand up the back of his head, Akihito rolled his eyes back, a smile on his face, before he snapped back upright with a grin. “Ayako! Not in public!”</p><p>Hands in his pockets, from the doorway Funetaro watched the pot of family stew simmering in the room. Laughing, sharing stories, no tension among them as they caught up.</p><p>His mother once again held Muku in her arms. “Kichiro has his own fanclub now.”</p><p>“S'right. The band is doing well. Even made the charts. Apparently I'm a heartthrob.”</p><p>“Say's who?” Father cocked his head at Kichiro.</p><p>“The better part of the high school girls.” He swaggered around the room. “But pops, I don't care about them. I have two loves in my life. My guitar and,” he pulled out a photograph.</p><p>“Who is this?” Mother took the photo.</p><p>In her lap Muku's fingers touched it. “Pretty girl.”</p><p>“Aww, even lil' Muku thinks my girl is a cutie!”</p><p>Delighted shock covered her features. “Kichiro? Is it serious?”</p><p>He bit his bottom lip and held out a jewelry case. “Oh yah.”</p><p>Funetaro took a step back. <em>Wait … an engagement?</em></p><p>Father placed his hands on Kichiro's shoulders. “Haha! This is great news! So I will soon have another daughter!”</p><p>Tugging on his half shredded shirt, Kichiro smiled proudly. “And a bunch of grandkids. She's a singer too. We're thinking how much fun would it be to raise a family of little musicians.”</p><p>Hugging him tight, Father brushed a happy tear from his eyes. “I can't wait to hold them all.” He extracted himself and turned to look at Funetaro. Raising a hand to him he remarked, “See, even your younger brother figured this out. It's not that difficult.”</p><p>Eyes fell on him as Funetaro's jaw clenched tight. He couldn't find the words.</p><p>“It's more than long enough for you to have settled down with a wife and started to build your family, Funetaro. You are the oldest. Your sister is married to a fine man.”</p><p>Akihito gave Funetaro a sympathetic glance before murmuring, “Thank you, sir.”</p><p>“Soon your brother will have a wife,<b> and</b> children! It's time for you to fulfill your responsibility to continuing the family name.”</p><p>Clenching his fist, Funetaro tried and failed to steady his breathing.</p><p>“I don't understand why this hasn't happened yet. You are the heir to a powerful name along with this fabulous place. You have a wonderful career blooming on the force. You are a prime candidate for marriage.”</p><p>His breath hissed through his nose in short huffs.</p><p>His mother snapped a nod his way. “Listen to your father.”</p><p>“You just need to apply yourself more.”</p><p>“Maybe I don't want to!” His shouted words silenced the room. Even Muku froze, clutching Mother's hands.</p><p>“Son, we can hire some help if you need it. Your mother knows an excellent matchmaker.”</p><p>“Why won't you listen to me!” Funetaro widened his stance.</p><p>Furrowing his brow, Father folded his arms. “Now listen here, when I was your age all you kids had already been born.”</p><p>
  <em>There we go again! The when I was your age BS. </em>
  <span>“Dad, I'm not you!”</span>
</p><p>“Well of course not.” He shrugged, voice raising in volume. “But one day you'll be where I am and you'll thank me for laying the foundations for you future. Stop being so ungrateful. You've had it easy. Your path always known.”</p><p>Tugging on his hair, Funetaro glared. “Easy? Easy!”</p><p>Kichiro scratched his head. “Uhhh yeah bro, Dad did everything for you. I had to figure what the heck to do with my life.”</p><p>He fell into silence as Akihito gestured for him to back up and whispered, “Just don't, trust me.”</p><p>Rising to his full height, Father stared down his nose. “Funetaro, stop being ridiculous and start being responsible. This isn't the end of the world.”</p><p>“This is <em>my</em> life and no one is listening to me!” He screamed before he could stop himself. Clamping a hand over his mouth, he turned and fled blindly. The weight of all this crushing him.</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>
    <b>~ID~</b>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>Funetaro slumped on the railing of the wooden bridge staring down into the koi pond. Beneath the lilies, the fish drifted peacefully around the stone lantern set in the center. Hard eyes stared down at what was a tranquil sight as Akihito's sneakers tread onto the bridge. He came up beside his friend and leaned on the railing, staring down into their disturbed reflection rippled by fish fins.</p><p>Akihito said nothing as he folded his hands.</p><p>At length Funetaro heaved a sigh. “I made an ass of myself.”</p><p>“No. You finally said what you should have a long time ago.”</p><p>“Spare me the lecture!”</p><p>He shook his head. “Not here for that.”</p><p>“Here to drag me back inside? Bet they're all angry because I ruined the day before we even sat down to dinner.”</p><p>“Ayako's smoothing things over inside.”</p><p>Funetaro looked up, heat on his cheeks. “So you're here to smooth me over.”</p><p>Akihito met his gaze calmly. “I'm here to listen.”</p><p>He stood back from the railing.</p><p>Shrugging, he looked back down at the fish, “Or … to stand here in an uncomfortable silence if that's what you want.”</p><p>
  <span>Funetaro sank back down onto the railing. “I'm sorry I spouted off like that. It's been a couple years since Kichiro's been home from touring. This was supposed to be his day. But … when I see how much of a hooligan he still appears to be … gah!”</span>
</p><p>Akihito cracked a grin. “Like he should be someone your dad is arresting.”</p><p>“Yeah. He drinks, he smokes, he dresses like a homeless man, but he brings in a small fortune playing his guitar and yowling into the microphone. Dad is proud of him.”</p><p>Akihito held his tongue, watching the fish drifting by beneath as the torrent of words poured through the broken dam.</p><p>“Father never asked me what I wanted to do! I was raised to fill a role. And if my tie wasn't straight I paid for it. My damn brother doesn't even own a tie. It's not fair.” Funetaro rested his head in his hands, staring at the fish. “My life is like a captive fish. I mean think about it. Have you ever wondered what it would be like to them?” He pointed at the koi drifting below. “Born inside a small contained pond, only seeing the same walls day in day out.”</p><p>Akihito cocked his head after giving it much thought. That was an odd perspective, and a dreary one at that. “No, I really haven't. But it sounds abysmal.”</p><p>“Well, that's my perspective. Placed in the pond and shown everything I can ever aspire to with no glimpse at the world beyond. No options for anything else. I just want something that's my choice for once.”</p><p>Pushing up from the railing, Akihito held up a hand. “Hold that thought.”</p><p>“Wait, where are you going?”</p><p>He didn't reply.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>~ID~</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Wandering easily along the paths in the garden, Akihito glanced over at his father-in-law continuing the conversation they had begun in the house. “That's not precisely the truth. Don't get me wrong, Ayako had my attention when I first met her, but it took time. It wasn't just love at first sight. We bonded over several dates, many of which I know she didn't tell you about.”</p><p>He laughed. “Certainly. My Ayako is rather head strong.”</p><p>“Part of what I love about her.” He shrugged, keeping the tone conversational. “The more I learned about her over time, the more I loved her. Never regretted it. But it needed time and space to develop.”</p><p>“Right,” he replied casually. Then as Akihito raised an eyebrow he looked over to where his son stood at the railing. “Oh...”</p><p>Akihito smiled knowingly gesturing to the bridge. As they wandered onto it, Funetaro looked up. Panic in his eyes, unable to find a safe place to look.</p><p>His father swallowed. “Son, there's something we need to talk about.”</p><p>At that Akihito waved, “And that's my cue to exit.”</p><p>“Wait!” Funetaro grabbed his shoulder. “Please don't go.”</p><p>Taking a place at the railing he watched the two. Waiting in the tense silence as they stole glances at one another.</p><p>His father started awkwardly firm, “You are my first born. Above all, my pride and joy. You have grown into a fine accomplished young man.”</p><p>Funetaro shook his head slowly, the anger growing in his eyes. “Your dreams, your ambitions.”</p><p>“Not mine. The great traditions of our family upheld for generations. Since the by-gone days we have always upheld the law back to the days of the samurai.”</p><p>Akihito flicked a hand, “All due respect, but I don't see you wearing armor and swinging a katana. Times have clearly changed.”</p><p>The commissioner blinked looking down at his own khaki shorts and sneakers. He laughed a bit. “Well, no. But that's not what I mean. I'm talking more about the marriage tradition.”</p><p>Akihito looked skyward. “Ah ok. So you made an exception for Ayako, but not your pride and joy.”</p><p>That brought him up short. “What?”</p><p>“Only that if we're talking traditions that old, our marriage would never have been allowed.”</p><p>“Good heavens, of course it wouldn't have been an—”</p><p>“A samurai's daughter marrying a farmer's son? Yeah, that wouldn't have happened.” He patted his hand. “I think you can ease up on him.”</p><p>They both stared at Akihito. He waved a hand. “And now it is time I leave you two to talk this out.”</p><p>At a distance, Akihito stood concealed by the wisteria as Muku toddled up to him followed by Ayako. Muku reached out to him as he picked her up. Ayako touched his arm. “Are they talking?”</p><p>“For the last ten minutes. More's been said than in the last year.” Faces flashed red, fists clenched, but only words were thrown. Words that needed to be heard. It was beyond time.</p><p>She rested her head on his shoulder. “Thank you, Aki.”</p><p>“I just provided the bridge for them … and it's not even mine.”</p><p>“Do you think this will be the end of it?”</p><p>He sighed. “Nope. There's no way this ends today.”</p><p>Muku pointed. “Fishies.”</p><p>“In a bit, kiddo. Uncle Moki and Grandpa need their calming presence at the moment. Not that it seems to be doing much good.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>~ID~</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Akihito stared in the half darkened living room. When he and Ayako had gone to bed the couch had been empty.</p><p>It wasn't now.</p><p>Sound asleep under the blanket Funetaro clutched the pillow he had left on the couch.</p><p>“Sheesh, I knew there was a burning reason to give him that key earlier. I hate being right.”</p><p>Muku stirred in her crib. “Daddy? Thirsty.”</p><p>He ruffled her hair. “Ok kiddo.” Pulling a pre-filled sippy cup from the fridge he handed it to her.</p><p>She pointed at Funetaro. “Uncle Moki sad.”</p><p>From the mouths of children. He nodded. “I know. I suspect you're gonna get a lot of time with him.” He watched her drinking, eyelids closing. Once his daughter was out, he retrieved the cup and put it back in the fridge.</p><p>“That was the easy fix.” Glancing at Funetaro, he sighed. “You are the harder one.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The writing came up on the screen as the two detectives leaned over the university computer. The librarian on staff tucked his access card away and looked at the two, his nerves flickering in his eyes. “Is there anything else?”</p><p>Narihisago shifted into the seat, browsing through the file names listed by access date, in another window was a second list. He flipped back and forth between them, looking for Tsukamoto's last entries to show up in Asato's.</p><p>In the silence that stretched out, Momoki offered an apologetic smile. “You've been a great help by providing their search histories. So, we know that Tsukamoto was assisting Asato with her doctorate research.”</p><p>“Oh yes. I remember seeing her in here a great deal. Ms. Tsukamoto was particularly adept at recalling older peer-reviewed articles.” He tugged on his tie. “I didn't listen in on their conversations, I just remember that Ms. Asato always came in asking for her help. Until … until Tsukamoto didn't come back from vacation.” He stared at Momoki searching for an answer he hadn't given.</p><p>“Hopefully we can find some clue hidden in the history.”</p><p>“Detective … you could just ask Tsukamoto … ”</p><p>Momoki's eyes lowered to the floor.</p><p>He inhaled, one hand over his mouth. “No … tell me it's not true. You found her?”</p><p>Narihisago nodded absently. “Afraid so. Can you do me a favor? See these pages I've marked? Is there a way we can have access to the full files off campus, and get a copy of these with the date stamps?”</p><p>“Sure, give me a moment.” The librarian went back behind the desk to the main terminal.</p><p>“What do we have?”</p><p>Narihisago narrowed his eyes at the screen. “I'm trying to figure out what Asato was working on. PhD's tend to be rather focused. But the oddity is Tsukamoto's access history.”</p><p>Momoki looked at the histories side by side. Titles with gigantic science-babble words in vast run on sentences filled the screen. Instead of reading them word for word, he opted to skim the list, given that Narihisago was getting them a copy with access. Words jumped out at him, tissue type, blood type, neurology, knockout mice...</p><p>
  <em>What the hell are knockout mice? Some kind of fighting mouse? No, can't be. Has to be something to do with science.</em>
</p><p>“Any idea what she was looking into?”</p><p>Narihisago put a thumb to his chin. “Frankenstein comes to mind. Joking, I doubt that she was resurrecting the dead. But if I had to guess, this has something to do with organ transplants.”</p><p>“Organ transplants? What does that have to do with the neck? There are no organs in there.”</p><p>“Technically incorrect. There is the thyroid, but that's the front,” he lowered his voice to be certain no one overheard, “not the back of it where we saw the incisions. The fact remains, there's no point in transplanting that one. You can live without it, obtaining regulation through pills.”</p><p>“So, what does all this mean?”</p><p>“Thank you.” He took the list complete with an access code for the articles from the quietly distraught librarian. “This means I got a lot of reading to do.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <b>~ID~</b>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Momoki threw a strike at the target dummy in the department gym, beads of sweat flew into the air dislodged from the force of his blow. Things had been rather dull for Momoki since returning from the university that morning. At least in the car while driving Narihisago hadn't said a word about him still crashing at his place. There had been half concealed glances, but he hadn't broached the subject, choosing neutral ground instead. Sunday had even been a previously unplanned trip out to a local pool where Muku got introduced to the shallow end and loved it, back floating between the three of them and giggling the whole way making boat noises. For that day they blissfully forgot the case.</p><p>Monday brought it all back into sharp focus with the trip to the university library.</p><p>Back at the office, Narihisago remained glued to his laptop reading paper after dry scientific paper, sometimes muttering out loud. The access code only worked for one computer at a time. He'd been so engrossed he hadn't even noticed when Momoki'd gotten up and left the room.</p><p>After dinner confrontation, the strain had grown too much. Momoki needed to work it out and the gym seemed like a good option. Keying into his childhood training, he slammed an open strike at the dummy, watching it jerk backward.</p><p>They'd spoken. They'd aired their grievances. And it had seemed when they returned to the house the matter had been understood between father and son.</p><p>That was until in the middle of dinner, Father looked at Ayako and Akihito with the question of when they were going to have their next. Even Akihito failed to hide his momentary shock before taking Ayako's hand. Five full minutes they tried to explain to him that Muku was enough. They were satisfied with their family as it was. The disappointment in Father's eyes was visceral.</p><p>Momoki delivered a hard kick to the dummy, hissing out his breath. <em>Father would never cut it as a detective! Can't read the room!</em> Another hard kick combination sent the thing rocking. If that were an opponent with a pulse they wouldn't be standing.</p><p>Pouring his fury into a series of strikes and kicks he almost wished that his opponent <em>did</em> have a pulse. That this was actually his father standing before him, realizing how strong he was!</p><p>“Well now, you didn't pick <b>that</b> up at the academy.”</p><p>Momoki paused, holding the primer for his next open palm strike. Panting, he eyed Matsuoka watching with a keen fire in his eye, dressed for a workout in the gym. “No. When I was five years old I started various martial arts training.”</p><p>A dry chuckle accompanied a raised eyebrow. “Competitive?”</p><p>Momoki turned and offered the ceremonial bow. “Entered every year. Championed several times.”</p><p>Matsuoka nodded. “Well, I'm more of a boxer style myself. But still, not used to seeing rookies come in with this kind of skill.” Pulling the towel from his neck, he tossed it onto a bench and gestured toward the ring. “We're both warmed up. Wanna spar a round?”</p><p>
  <em>Do I ever!</em>
  <span> Momoki strode in front of him. As he passed by Matsuoka, the older healed scars peeked out from beneath his racer back shirt. Matsuoka had the look of a barroom brawler, though he doubted that's where those scars were earned. No doubt the man knew how to throw his weight around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inside the ring, Momoki wiped his brow. “Do you often challenge your new recruits?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grinned. “Oh I challenge everyone of them. But in this ring? Tch! Most aren't equipped to handle what I can throw. If you really were a champion, I don't think I have to hold back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hand to palm, Momoki met his eyes and offered the bow. “Please don't. I want the workout.”</span>
</p><p>“<span>Where's your partner?” Matsuoka took up a boxer's guard. </span></p><p>“<span>In hog heaven. We scored a landslide of papers from the university library. He won't be coming up for air soon.” Momoki stood on his guard, weight carefully centered and prepped to shift at a moments notice. He had never seen Matsuoka fight, but he'd learned in competition that the fool who underestimated his opponent ended up eliminated. He didn't want this to be a one punch knock out. Momoki wanted to vent his steam.</span></p><p>“Bookworms, tsh!”</p><p>“Don't laugh. It's why he's as perceptive as he is.” Driving forward without warning, Momoki went for the first strike. Open palm toward Matsuoka's left shoulder.</p><p>Matsuoka's eyes flashed wide for a second, but he rolled his shoulder backward going with the blow, leaving it to graze over the tense muscles with only minimum impact. His right fist, protected by knuckle pads held by sports wrap, came up in a shot for Momoki's gut.</p><p>Spotting it, Momoki turned his torso just in time. The pads scrapped across, leaving a smear of sweat on his shirt as it pressed against his taut muscles.</p><p>It didn't end there. Now in close, Momoki spun into a kick.</p><p>Matsuoka scrambled to deflect it, one hand catching, the other only by half. He grinned, clearly concentrating, but thrilled. For him to strike he'd have to back off.</p><p>Momoki kept the pressure on, driving him back toward the edge of the ring alternating hand strikes and kicks. The tactic worked, until Matsuoka ducked at a swing and came up with a hard punch to his shoulder, knocking him off balance. In the advantage, he lined up a follow through punch. But Momoki dropped backward and delivered a sweep kick.</p><p>Unable to keep his balance, Matsuoka windmilled his arms shock in his eyes the moment Momoki came up behind him and grappled him.</p><p>The problem was that Matsuoka's frame outclassed Momoki. In a sudden twist the brawler broke loose and flipped the tables, pressing Momoki into the mat.</p><p>“I'm impressed.” Matsuoka released him and helped him to is feet. “You can handle yourself.”</p><p>“I should be able to after all that training.” He grabbed his towel and mopped off the workout.</p><p>“Heh, not that you'll need these kind of skills. I mean, not where you'll be going after a quick tour of this department.”</p><p>Momoki narrowed his eyes. “Quick tour? Not hardly. I intend to stay in homicide.”</p><p>“Stay? Aren't you putting in your dues and transferring to the HQ to work central ASAP?”</p><p>“Guess again. I'm staying where the real impact is.”</p><p>Matsuoka did a double take. “Does this mean so much to you? I mean, Momoki, with your connections you have a free ride.”</p><p>He thrust a finger into Matsuoka's chest. “I don't want a free ride. I mean to prove we both belong here.”</p><p>Matsuoka's scars puckered as a slow smile grew on his face. “Heh, so <em>not</em> just a chip off the old pop.”</p><p>“Not hardly. I don't take handouts.” <em>Except this case, initially. But we'll earn this victory.</em></p><p>“Well now, that's unexpected. If I were you I would have just taken the express ride to the top floor and never looked back.”</p><p>“Clearly I'm not you. Which is the reason why the department gained one if its best assets.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Narihisago.”</p><p>Matsuoka shook his head about to say something.</p><p>Narihisago grabbed the gym's door frame, stopping his forward momentum. As breathless as the two who had just gone a rough round, he gasped out, “We got another crime sight!” And just like that he continued down the hall.</p><p>Offering a sly grin, “Matsuoka, if resilience equaled success, no case that my partner touched would go unsolved. See you around the office.” Momoki started after his partner. “Hey, let me change first!”</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>~ID~</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“I swear, this is what we found when we got here.” One of the officers on duty held up a photo showing the old rusted padlock now cut from the old chain on the door. “There's no way this has been opened. And there are no other doors to this warehouse. No busted windows. This place was sealed tight.”</p><p>Narihisago stood over the naked corpse of a male victim chest down in the middle of the debris laden floor. This place looked like it was about to fall in on itself like a house of cards. There was no doubt this guy was connected to the Stitcher. He crouched down and there on the back of his neck he spied the telltale incision and inflamed flesh. Again the victim seemed to be somewhere in the thirties. Of course, they'd have to wait for the actual identification.</p><p>“This was reported why?” Momoki eyed the officer.</p><p>“Homeless fellow was looking for a spot to spend the night. Wiped off the window grime and saw this. After he talked to the officers who came out he's been pretty catatonic. Don't think you'll get much out of him. They're keeping him overnight, hot meal and a real bed for the night.”</p><p>“Narihisago, how long ago?”</p><p>“Three days. And he was brought in here not too long after death. Hrm, still oozing.” He pointed to the dried droplets of blood on the floor. They were scattered among the scuff marks on the floor from the victim being dragged. The trouble was, those ruts weren't the full length of the floor.</p><p>“How did they get in, genius? The door was sealed shut.” Matsuoka stood in the center of the room, his hard gaze on Narihisago.</p><p>“Classic locked room mystery.” He hadn't touched the corpse or anything, and so wasn't wearing gloves. Hand to chin he narrowed his eyes and looked around. Afternoon light streamed down through the gaps in the ceiling. The stale warehouse had been left to rot for years, old machinery collapsed in the corners, the odor of congealed oil mingled with the funk of the corpse. At least it was only one.</p><p>
  <em>Why just one? And how did it get in here? There's no break in the walls. No broken windows.</em>
  <span> He wandered along them. The ones that could open hadn't had the blanket of dust disturbed. </span>
  <em>The only door, secured by a seized lock. It didn't just appear in here.</em>
</p><p>“<span>Look.” Matsuoka pointed to the door. “That had to be the way.”</span></p><p>“<span>Wrong direction, and there's no way that lock opened, not if the police used bolt cutters on it. Sorry to disappoint.” Narihisago murmured through his hand. “The drag marks come from over here. What was this place?”</span></p><p>
  <span>The officer scratched his head. “This is in the seedier district. A lot of these places were used for multiple purposes. Don't remember there ever being a sign on it, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narihisago drifted toward the machinery at the far end. Much of it difficult to discern from the metallic skeletal remains. An old upright freezer with the door falling off the rusted hinges, lay empty, stains from neglect down the numerous wire shelves laying collapsed at the bottom. Around the freezer, there were shadows, bare marks only covered by dust, outlining where other large objects used to be. Shelves? Tables? Cabinets? Whatever they were, they were gone. So it was only a guess.</span>
</p><p>“<span>Hey, genius,” Matsuoka tapped a foot. “The body is over here. This place was nothing but a dump point.”</span></p><p>
  <span>He shook his head. “No. I suspect our perp panicked when they discovered the other sight was cordoned off. That meant finding a new location, quick. One they knew would have been hard to access for anyone else.”</span>
</p><p>“<span>How did they get in?”</span></p><p>
  <span>Momoki followed Narihisago's gesture up to the open second story. Along the edges of a rickety metal walkway there was a large window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barking a laugh, Matsuoka slapped his own forehead. “You're joking!”</span>
</p><p>“<span>There's a building roof that butts up against there, should end up close enough.” Without another word, he dashed up the open utility stairs, Momoki and Matsuoka in tow. </span></p><p>“<span>You're chasing shadows, rookie! There won't be anything up there.”</span></p><p>
  <span>A second later, Momoki inhaled sharply. Narihisago leaned into the window, it was closed, but not latched. There on the sill, smears of dried blood. Gloving his hand, he carefully opened the window.</span>
</p><p>“<span>There's no blood outside.” Matsuoka pointed.</span></p><p>“<span>That's simple, and confirms our delivery. Three nights ago it rained, washing away the external evidence.”</span></p><p>
  <span>The color drained in the older man's face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Momoki glanced out the window. “From this angle without any street lamps in the alley there's no way anyone would have seen anything.”</span>
</p><p>“<span>Yup, bad luck when we discovered the main dump sight for our killer pushed him here … but this worries me.”</span></p><p>“<span>Why?”</span></p><p>“<span>This was an elaborate way to get rid of evidence. We need to figure out who this place last belonged to. Otherwise, how would they have known how to get in?”</span></p><p>
  <span>In a huff, Matsuoka slashed a hand in the air and stalked down the rickety stairs. “Thin, bookworm, real thin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narihisago raised an eyebrow, glancing at Momoki. “Bookworm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wandering back down to the floor, Momoki whispered, “I know the corpse is connected but … I'm sorry, I have to agree with him. This does seem th—” An odd scrapping sound beneath his foot against the floor stopped his words. He lifted his shoe and bent down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn't the only one. Matsuoka dashed back as Narihisago cried out in excitement, crouching down but not touched the object. “A scalpel! That proves this place had a related history.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matsuoka grunted. “Doesn't mean anything! Could have fallen from the perp's pocket.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narihisago rolled his eyes. “Look again. Until Momoki stepped on it, that blade was stuck to the floor by its own rust. This blade was abandoned here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shaking his head, Matsuoka smirked. “It's a fake. Surgical steel doesn't rust.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Momoki shared a smile with Narihisago, who waved him on. “Of course it can corrode. It just takes the right condition and time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To which Narihisago added while pointing to the roof, “Such as conditions like an abandoned warehouse for a number of years.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The chief stood behind his desk, staring down at the computer screen. It had been over a full minute since Momoki and Narihisago had reported to his office in answer to a summons.</span>
</p><p>“<span>Sir?” Momoki remained standing beside Narihisago, both more or less at attention, “You wanted to see us?”</span></p><p>
  <span>He glanced up, making certain the door was shut. “Regarding the body recovered yesterday … ” He ground a finger into his forehead. “I am ordering you not to write his name on the board.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narihisago leaned forward. “Chief, why do you look like you need to be reminded to breathe?”</span>
</p><p>“<span>Yori Nishiyama.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Momoki blinked, “Who?” But in the next moment, Narihisago gripped the edge of the desk more than a mild shock in his eyes. “Wait, you know him? Who is this guy?”</span>
</p><p>“<span>I don't know him personally, but I came across a few references in the university files.” It was strange seeing him uneasy. He locked eyes with the chief. “How long has the Minister of Education, Culture, Sports, Science and Technology been missing?”</span></p><p>
  <span>As the chief continued to rub his forehead, Momoki glanced between the two of them. </span>
  <span>
    <b>That</b>
  </span>
  <span> position he knew, and with a government official in the mix this case just entered a higher circle. </span>
</p><p>“<span>Roughly three weeks. They've been keeping it hushed. I only learned about it because of the flagged ID. They contacted me within minutes.”</span></p><p>“<span>Sir,” Narihisago still leaned on the edge of his desk, “are we still on the case?”</span></p><p>“<span>Yes. With the caveat that until you hear from me no word of his involvement leaves my office. Is that understood?”</span></p><p>“<span>Crystal clear. Victim #5 it is.” </span></p><p>“<span>Good.” The chief relaxed a touch, sitting down a bit more gingerly than usual. “Officials getting kidnapped and murdered is not something they want getting out there.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Momoki narrowed his eyes. “They intend to cover it up?”</span>
</p><p>“<span>More like control the release. Look, that is above my pay grade. And I never imagined when this case was assigned to you two that it would lead to this. Handle it with discretion, please. No one beyond us three is to know his involvement. Understood?”</span></p><p>
  <span>They nodded in tandem. </span>
</p><p>“<span>By the way, I'm impressed with your performance so far. The tests are still being run, but I hear by the afternoon we should know if the blood up on that windowsill was the same as Nis … victim #5. I will be in contact with you throughout. Please report directly to me. What's on today's agenda?”</span></p><p>“<span>Looking into who had possession of that warehouse.” Narihisago straightened up and rubbed his chin. “As run down as it was, there's a history in that place, I could feel it.”</span></p><p>“<span>Let me know if you need anything.”</span></p><p>
  <span>He smirked. “Maybe a certain senior detective not yapping at my heels?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The chief rolled his eyes. “Sorry, I'm partly responsible for that. I'll talk to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <span>~ID~</span>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took far longer than it should have to arrive, but Narihisago opened the emailed file documenting the ownership of the building. The warehouse had changed hands several times. It had once been larger. That was the reason it only had one door. After an automobile part machinist sold it, the new owner split it into two properties and leased them out over the years. The side they were interested in had leased to a food cannery, then a meat packer, followed by a wide variety of production uses … all of that much had been when it was in better condition. All of these businesses used the property til the end of their lease and simply didn't renew it. All, except the last one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Futurescape Industries. Fifteen years ago they had a twelve month lease and then unexpectedly abandoned it with four months to go. The landlord filed for missed payments, but the case never went anywhere. The tenants had been unreachable. In the following years, the landlord lost the leaser on the other side and hadn't been able to find another tenant. They just abandoned the building completely. Easy to see why. It was now a wreck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fifteen years ago? He rested his head in his hand, covering one eye as he let the new details wander through his head. Carefully he checked to make certain that he was keeping his mouth shut as he mused.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>Every victim is tied to a scientific career. Futurescape Industries, the search turned up next to nothing, but it seems the info has been stripped for some reason. I would hazard a guess they were up to something in the sciences. Our latest victim Nishiyama was the minister of sciences, even back then. I knew his name from the peer-reviewed articles where he had chimed in on several, either pushing them forward or in a handful of cases, discrediting them and having the status retracted. But that's common in science. When an experiment can't be replicated, it's called into question. People don't usually end up dead because of that. If the point is that important to the team, they go back to the drawing board, run it all over again.</em>
</p><p>His hand dropped to his desk, eyes drifted to the board. “Over again … ” He approached the board and narrowed his eyes. The photo of Nishiyama was only of the back of his neck. He had kept Victim #5 written underneath. Was that what this was about, an old—</p><p>The chief's door opened, slamming against the wall. Matsuoka's tie flew up as he turned back and shouted, “I don't need a lecture! My track record proves that I know what I'm doing!”</p><p>Narihisago watched through a side eye, still facing the murder board. All around the office looked like a field of meerkats popping up from desks.</p><p>The chief's voice carried out of his office. “Detective, I respect your methods, but I'm just asking you to back off this one.”</p><p>“What? The little bookworm feeling the pressure? Doesn't want me to see when he screws up?”</p><p>“No. I've been impressed with the teamwork and I feel they've earned the space to operate. If they need assistance, they will ask.”</p><p>“Rookies don't know when they are in too deep. It's up to seasoned officers to show them the ropes.”</p><p>“Kokuryu Matsuoka. I have asked nicely. The next step is a full order. I am overseeing the rookies on their case. Stand down or else.”</p><p>He clenched a fist. “Or else what?”</p><p>The chief came to the door and smirked at him. “You really want to find out?”</p><p>“Tch!” Matsuoka stormed off and slammed his door.</p><p>“Shit, that guy could really use a zen garden.”</p><p>Narihisago shifted his gaze fully back to the board. <em>Where was I? </em></p><p>Hours must have passed with Narihisago staring through barely open eyes, deep in thought in an endless circle of clues that refused to reveal their secrets. A hand on his shoulder opened his eyes.</p><p>Momoki pointed to the clock. “Hey, we should probably get some lunch.”</p><p>Just as he was about to get up, he glanced at the laptop screen to a new message. Opening it, he smiled triumphantly. “That result came faster than expected.”</p><p>“Which one?” Momoki leaned over the screen, reading. “Heh, so the blood <em>was</em> a match.”</p><p>“Which means we have our point of ingress. The only way that window would have been known relied on prior information. Somehow this links to one of the articles.”</p><p>“The papers from the library?”</p><p>“Yes.” Instantly, Narihisago brought up a collection of them. “These are the ones in common with Asato and Tsukamoto. Going with the theory that this connects to a study of some sort, lemme see, by timeline that nixes these four by date alone, they'd be well afterward. And these two are from decades before our target year when the building would have been in Futurescape's lease. That leaves us with these five articles including experiments done during that year.”</p><p>“Four,” Momoki pointed, “This one here wasn't run in Tokyo.”</p><p>“Nice catch. Four it is.”</p><p>Grabbing the back of his collar, Momoki hauled him up. “Lunch. Now. We can talk about this after you've refueled that brain of yours.”</p><p>Narihisago complied, his jacket catching on the holstered gun he was forced to wear on the clock. Annoyed he tugged the edge down and followed after shutting his laptop. “Alright.”</p><p>“You getting any other connections?”</p><p>“Minor ones. But we're missing something and I don't even know what it is.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <b>~ID~</b>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>A cool breeze drifted across Funetaro's arm pricking the hairs upright. He opened his eyes to the dark living room, only streetlamps below tracing lines on the ceiling. It was the middle of the night. Sitting up he spied the balcony door slightly open, the breeze shifting the curtain.</p><p>Instantly he swung to look at the crib. Muku lay curled up, blissfully hugging the floppy pink dog tight as she sucked on her thumb. Thank God, she was safe.</p><p>Why was the balcony door opened?</p><p>Carefully he crawled out from beneath the blanket and edged to the balcony. Seated in the corner, Akihito leaned his shoulder against the railing, knees drawn up with this elbows resting there. He needed a shave, but this wasn't a surprise. That was something Funetaro had wondered, what would he look like with a beard? Would it be the same hair color? Akihito might go a day or two forgetting to shave, but he'd remember when Muku complained of the scratching. The world would never know because of his sensitive toddler.</p><p>Edging out, Funetaro tried not to make too much noise. To his relief, Muku never even stirred as he slid the door to just within an inch of closed.</p><p>Akihito glanced up.</p><p>Voice just above a whisper, Funetaro sat down and leaned against a railing post. “What are you doing out here?”</p><p>“Couldn't sleep.” He swirled his hand above his head. “It's all jumbled up here, running around like a toddler on a sugar high. Didn't want to wake anyone, so I came out here for some air.”</p><p>“That's not all of it … you're worried about more victims.”</p><p>Akihito's sigh was all the answer he needed.</p><p>“Well, Muku's out cold. So … what's on your mind.”</p><p>He leaned his head back. “What isn't? Ok, give me a second and I'll try to organize it.”</p><p>Funetaro sat back listening to the insects calling in the night. Bats and other night birds swooped down along the edge of the building occasionally obscuring the starlit sky. The odd car rolled by, a reminder that the two men were not the only ones awake in the middle of the night. Luckily, Akihito's apartment was in one of the better districts.</p><p>Akihito rested an elbow on one knee and caught his chin in the palm. “There's a connection between two of our victims for certain. Asato and Tsukamoto. The latter helping the former with a PhD. Not out of the ordinary for a librarian, it is her job, after all. The question is why were the two of them murdered as well as our victim #5? And why the other two, who were also linked via science careers? Looking at the articles in question we're looking at Qualitative Analysis of—”</p><p>“Summary, it's the middle of the night, you're gonna lose me in the technical.” Funetaro hated to even say it, but it was true. The gist was the import thing here.</p><p>“Right. We're looking at two papers concerning blood and tissue typing compatibility. One of those studies utilized knockout mice.”</p><p>“What the heck are those? I'm been meaning to ask.”</p><p>“Genetically modified mice where certain genes have been either removed or deactivated so the scientists can look for specific things. Usually it's part of the immune system, from what I've gathered.”</p><p>Funetaro cocked his head. “Wait, weakening the immune system? Doesn't that mean they get sick?”</p><p>“It's why they require extra sterile environments. They're hard to keep, but apparently very important for living models. Anyway, one of the biggest issues in organ transplants is the immune suppression required to keep the body from rejecting. Theories range all over on how to dial that down. Medications work, but just like the knockout mice, that's more or less what's happening on a chemical level.”</p><p>“Grim.” Funetaro sighed. “Never thought about it.”</p><p>“Most don't unless they have to.” Akihito scratched his forehead. “Our other two articles were two different tangents. One involving stem cells transplants, and the other involving attempts to grow knockout organs without any tissue tags using various host animals. The reason I've zeroed in on all four of these was because they had been originally published as successful, but when other laboratories tried to replicate their results it couldn't be done. They were redacted by the Minister.” He stopped there, an innocent enough statement of fact.</p><p>“So we have a name attached to four files that Tsukamoto accessed.”</p><p>“Among many others, yes. But why would a PhD student be looking at retracted science experiments?”</p><p>“Ok,” Funetaro held up a hand, “another angle, were there any familiar names on those files? Like the victims?”</p><p>He shook his head. “I would have mentioned it if I had seen that. By law all who contribute must be listed. And we still know next to nothing of Futurescapes Industries. It's like they were clandestine or something.</p><p>“That would explain why there isn't any info about them. Maybe a shill? The studies overlapped that time period?”</p><p>“More or less. Within a stone's throw of it for data collection. As usual the writing is matter of fact, detached. Most are identified as 'subject' with a number.” He shrugged. “Not much to go on.”</p><p>“Could one of these studies been run through that warehouse?”</p><p>“I'm certain that was the case. Just can't put my finger on which one. Here's the other kicker.” He met Funetaro's gaze with eyes so clear they gleamed jade in the moonlight with a frightening intensity. “Every scientist on those four studies is no longer working in the field.”</p><p>That was a shock of cold water. “All of them?”</p><p>Akihito nodded. “Every. Last. One. Their papers were retracted, their careers ended.”</p><p>“Crap. That's motive.”</p><p>He laid his head back. “One very cold revenge.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <b>~ID~</b>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“What the hell?” Matsuoka loomed over his desk, staring at the offending object that had not been there when he left the night before.</p><p>In the center of his desk sat a shallow ornate box filled with sand, a bonsai tree, some pebbles, and a miniature rake.</p><p>His lip curled at the zen garden. “Is this some kind of prank? Who the hell put this in here!”</p><p>He stabbed his finger leaving a deep depression in the sand. Stalking away from it, he scowled as he looked out at the parking lot. There were only a couple cars. The chief's, and that rookie Narihisago's white car.</p><p>“Why that son of a … ”</p><p>Stomping back over to his desk, he sat down and crossed his arms.</p><p>His eyes kept flicking to the divot in the sand.</p><p>Unable to resist the disturbance he grabbed the little rake, smoothing it over.</p><p>The door opened. He dropped the rake and crossed his arms trying to appear nonchalant.</p><p>Sho Shingi carried in a stack of files, luckily not looking up. “Sir, here is what requested. Took me a bit.”</p><p>Grateful he hadn't been spotted playing in the sand, he waved him over. “Put them on the corner here. Is that all of them?”</p><p>He nodded.</p><p>“Excellent work, Shingi. Do you want to be my assistant?”</p><p>“Would I ever, Sir!” He smiled. “Whatever you need done!”</p><p>Matsuoka grinned and folded his hands. “I have a job for you.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Thunder rattled the office windows as rain assaulted them. It was already ramping up to be a day. Narihisago leaned his forehead on the palm of his hand, his phone to his ear. “Right, I get that it's a strange request … ”</p><p>“<em>Strange doesn't cover it. We're talking at least a couple days for results from that. We'll need to obtain really pure samples. Under the circumstances I'm not sure we can do that.”</em></p><p>“<span>Can you at least try?”</span></p><p>
  <span>A long drawn out sigh came over the phone. </span>
  <em>“You have got to be shitting me. This sounds like something out a science fiction novel!”</em>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugged. “To be honest, it might be. And I would prefer not to be right on this hunch. But where is the line between science and science fiction?”</span>
</p><p>“<em>Ethics.”</em><span> The forensics lab-tech grumbled, </span><em>“I'll give it a run, but I cannot make any promises. I can't believe what you're asking!”</em></p><p>“<span>Thank y—” He didn't even get it out before the line went dead. “Fair enough.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Momoki wandered in, hands in his pockets. “Well, I haven't been able to get anything out of the government offices concerning that lab other than the filing was really obscure. The landlord told me that he received checks in the mail for the use of the building. It was under the name of the organization, no actual person. And those checks? Well, signature illegible. So, no luck with Futurescapes.”</span>
</p><p>“<span>Dead end after dead end.”</span></p><p>“<span>Unfortunate word choice.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Narihisago nodded and held his hands palm up. “Sorry. I just wish we had something to go on.” Out of the corner of his eyes he followed Shingi making his eighth run to the copier this morning. </span>
  <em>That is odd, and a bit out of place.</em>
  <span> His path took him right past the murder board, and he slowed every time. </span>
</p><p>“<span>Ok, so nothing from the company. How about looking at those paper authors again.” Momoki looked up from his desk and his eyes flashed wide. In a split second he vanished beneath the cover of his desk. Humorously enough, a clap of thunder accompanied the move covering the clatter of the chair.</span></p><p>
  <em>And the weirdness continues … </em>
  <span>standing up, Narihisago turned to the murder board as cover for a quick surveillance glance. That explained it. Commissioner Momoki wandered up, hat tucked beneath his arm. “Akihito.” He looked over at the empty desk, a withered expression on his face. “It's almost lunch time. I was hoping to catch you and Funetaro today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Halfway facing his work in a show of being occupied, which was mostly true, he shook his head. “Just missed him. He's out on an errand. Tracking down some important transfer of ownership documents from the property office. Not sure when he'll be back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His shoulders sagged. “Damn, I was really … really hoping to have a chance to talk to him. He's still not answering when I call.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narihisago closed his eyes fighting with the urge to just stop beating around the god-be-damned bush and just spell it out. </span>
</p><p>“<span>Do you know? Is he getting my calls?”</span></p><p>
  <span>To that he nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shock opened the Commissioner's eyes wider. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>Ok, that's it! </em>
  <span>“He'll talk to you when you get the point.”</span>
</p><p>“<span>What point? I don't understand.”</span></p><p>“<span>Shit, I'm probably going to get fired for this.” He huffed a breath through his nose. “I do understand. After all Ayako and I had to spend the entire trip home after that dinner explaining to Muku that Grandpa didn't actually mean she wasn't good enough for him.” Narihisago glared at him, folding his arms. “That was not an enjoyable discussion to have with a three year-old. And it was all thanks to her overhearing your remarks to Ayako at dinner.”</span></p><p>
  <span>He took a step backward. “All I meant was … ”</span>
</p><p>“<span>Doesn't matter what you meant. What matters is what my daughter thought she heard. And I don't appreciate having to stop her from bawling her eyes out after what should have been a fun visit.”</span></p><p>“<span>What does this have to do with Funetaro?” He stiffened. “He's hardly a child.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Narihisago pointed. “Now you're getting it. You're right. He isn't a child. He's a grown man. And even when he was a child, did you ever ask him what he wanted? Get to know him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His gaze wandered a bit.</span>
</p><p>“<span>Take that as a no. Do you know that Ayako has the sweetest singing voice and knows over a dozen lullabies?”</span></p><p>
  <span>That caught his attention, he stared with one eyebrow raised.</span>
</p><p>“<span>How about that she has an artistic flair when making bento boxes?” He folded his arms enjoying watching his father-in-law trying to find a way to respond before he continued. “See that murder board? Do you know who laid that out? Your son did. Not only that but he has the patience of a saint while watching Muku for us. Ask yourself, how well do you really know your children?”</span></p><p>
  <span>His chest fell a bit. That was his answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turning back to the murder board, Narihisago added. “By the way, what he wanted to be when he grew up … he never even had the chance to think about it because of you. Your plans trampled any ambition he may have had. So, it's going to take more than a simple gesture of apology … ” a flash of lightning and a peel of thunder marked the pause, “ … with all due respect, sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Commissioner Momoki's eyes wandered all over the board. “I see, Akihito.” His tone was subdued. “Please … give him my regards.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded as his father-in-law left. A full minute passed before Momoki eased out from beneath the desk. Narihisago chuckled, “That was mature.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blushed a bit. “Sorry, I just really didn't … anyway, thank you for what you said.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narihisago shrugged. “You think I'd forget your reaction when I asked you that question at the academy? Heh, never saw such a lost expression, well until a few moments ago. I meant all of it. And trust me, Ayako was fit to be tied when Muku started crying in the car. She almost made me turn the car around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Momoki was about to say something when the chief called out from his office door, “Momoki, Narihisago, just got a call from one the victim's mothers. Wants to met with the inspectors on the case. I sent you the address. Go on out and have a talk, would you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Momoki nodded. “Right away.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <b>~ID~</b>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Asato residence was a small one-family household, well kept and tidy. A calico cat slept inside the rain pattered window, eyes cracked as she watched, twitching her tail idly. Outside the storm still threw a tantrum as Momoki and Narihisago sat on the couches watching their host pour tea. On the bookshelf behind Mrs. Asato a framed photo of a smiling young woman in a graduation cap and gown looked out at them. Her face familiar from their murder board. Mana Asato.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After handing them the cups, she looked over her shoulder. “Thank you for coming, inspectors. I just … I can't believe she's gone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Momoki followed her gaze. “Our sympathies for your loss.”</span>
</p><p>“<span>Please tell me, were you the one who found her?”</span></p><p>
  <span>He gestured to Narihisago, who he discovered was skimming the bookcase. He startled for a moment before nodding in reply.</span>
</p><p>“<span>Please tell me whoever did this … she didn't suffer did she?”</span></p><p>
  <span>Narihisago's eyes fell to the floor. He shook his head. Momoki realized that was an open gesture the moment that Mrs. Asato seemed to relax a bit. He let her take peace in that misunderstanding.</span>
</p><p>“<span>She seemed like an astonishing young woman.”</span></p><p>
  <span>She smiled fondly as she took the photograph from the shelf and brought it to the table. “Mana was incredibly talented. All her instructors told me she was sharp. It's why she excelled at the sciences. She was stubborn once she got an idea, looking at it from all angles, getting the data. Thorough. Always running the experiments more than once to confirm the findings. They saw great things in her future.” She choked up into silence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narihisago cleared his throat. “Did she mention what she was working on for her PhD?”</span>
</p><p>“<span>Oh yes. The topic changed a bit in the last two months. But she'd always been interested in finding a way to make organ transplants more effective. Find a way to eliminate the need to suppress the immune system. As she told me that was the leading cause of death in the patients, secondary infections. She was comparing the different attempts through the years and exploring the options. Trying to find a new protocol to test.”</span></p><p>“<span>In the old methods?” He rubbed his chin. </span></p><p>“<span>I'm not one-hundred percent certain what she was aiming at trialing, she'd been working with a librarian.”</span></p><p>“<span>Tsukamoto.” </span></p><p>“<span>Why yes, that was her name. They were looking into something involving cells that could grow to become anything. I am sorry, but I don't know what her laptop password was. However, I am more than willing to hand it to you in hopes that it might lead to her killer.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Momoki nodded. “That would be helpful. We have a squad who specialize in cracking into devices.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She left the room and returned with the computer. “Here. I hope you can find something in here. I do know she had a couple conversations with man at a bar concerning her paper.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That caught Narihisago's attention. “A man? Do you know his name?”</span>
</p><p>“<span>It might be in her notes. But I am sorry, she didn't tell me. Just that he seemed helpful in some of the more taboo methods used in the past.”</span></p><p>“<span>A fellow scientist?”</span></p><p>
  <span>Mrs. Asato smiled. “You just described all of my daughter's friends.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <b>~ID~</b>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shingi stood on the other side of the desk staring at Matsuoka's unblinking stare. It felt more than a little uncomfortable as he detailed what he'd overheard and seen throughout the day. The man was hard to read.</span>
</p><p>“<span>And that's it?”</span></p><p>
  <span>He shrugged. “Aside from a discussion Narihisago had with Commissioner Momoki. Really dressed him down.”</span>
</p><p>“<span>Heh, I'll bet the commissioner did.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Shingi blanched. “Uhhh, not what I meant, sir. Narihisago dressed the commissioner down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He flinched for a moment before recovering. “Did the commissioner seem upset?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shingi nodded. “Most certainly. I couldn't get close enough to catch the topic, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He templed his hands before him. “Interesting. Good work, Shingi. Keep it up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart leapt into his throat. “You want me to keep spying on him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matsuoka smiled like a Cheshire cat. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Momoki waded through the cracked laptop files. While Mana Asato may have been an astonishingly insightful scientist, she </span>
  <em>clearly</em>
  <span> had her own organizational system. Everything from folders to file names was a letter-number combination. That even included her photo files. Nothing of interest in those really. Just a typical young adult hanging with various friends. Most took place on the campus, around the lab. She was always smiling, and her friends certainly appeared to be average. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What does a deranged serial killer look like? Momoki clicked through more photos and tried to imagine the answer to that question.</span>
</p><p>“<span>Oh hey, we got access to her laptop?” Narihisago leaned over his shoulder, depositing a cup of coffee he had just run out to fetch on his round. Sipping from his own, he watched as the pictures scrolled by. </span></p><p>“<span>Well, she had quite a crowd of friends. Her mom seems to be right, I've seen pretty much all of them in the campus and lab photos.” Momoki shrugged. “Young to middle-aged. None of them seem to be out of the ordinary. Is that Tsukamoto?”</span></p><p>
  <span>Narihisago grabbed her missing persons file photo off the board and held it up. “Sure is. In a bar with a grad student? Interesting. Looks like a party of some sort. Which bar?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scrolling through a few more Momoki found one lucky shot that showed the window. The name wasn't on there and the logo was half blocked. </span>
</p><p>“<span>Flip it.” Narihisago leaned in closer as the process completed. “Shit, I know that place.” He closed his eyes, snapping his fingers. “Damn it, it's in Roppongi. Across the street from that one we used to frequent in our academy days. Had a weird name like they were trying to be classy.”</span></p><p>“<span>Unlike the dive we went to.” Momoki cocked his head, staring at the part of the logo. “Wait, is that a swan? Oh—ummm … Asture!”</span></p><p>“<span>That's the one! A place we should probably check out.” But Narihisago didn't turn for the door. He remained hovering over the computer eyeing the files. “Anything in her notes?”</span></p><p>
  <span>Bringing those files back up, Momoki clicked through a bunch of them. “A lot of this just seems to be references to papers and experiments. A couple first-hand interviews with some professors and scientists in the field. Here's a local surgeon at the hospital, a couple of nurses specializing in the unit. Some unsavory notes on a </span>
  <em>very</em>
  <span> thorough chat to a senior lab tech in the tissue typing lab. Safe to say we know what she was focusing on.”</span>
</p><p>“<span>Hold on, what was that one?” Narihisago pointed to a file he'd glossed over. “An interview with NW?” That was it. No name, just initials.</span></p><p>“<span>It was the first one I opened. Thought the notation was odd, until I realized that's how she referred to most of them. By initials. Do we know any NW's?”</span></p><p>
  <span>Narihisago rolled his eyes. “Like half a dozen within the papers. The thing is—the bar in the photo is different than the one she'd last been seen at.”</span>
</p><p>“<span>What if NW is one of her colleagues?”</span></p><p>“<span>Could be. Let's send a couple of those photos to the campus and find who they all are.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Momoki grabbed a few of the best shots and sent it to his own computer. Photos that typically showed them lined up and smiling at the camera. He fired it off with a quick inquiry into their identification. By the time he turned back to the edge of the desk he found her laptop missing. Across the desk, Narihisago sat at his own hunched over her laptop with his chin in his hand, clicking through things. His eyes darting back and forth swiftly.</span>
</p><p>“<span>Annnnd there goes any chance at further conversation.” </span></p><p>
  <span>Belatedly, Narihisago glanced up. “Did you say something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grinned. “Never mind.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <b>~ID~</b>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Narihisago closed his car door and looked over at the Asture's front. The place had the appearance of wanting to be fancier than it was. The swanky looking swan decal on the window was just that, time had chipped and pealed part of it away. The brass plated metal on the outside pitted deep enough to expose the core. A place for posers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He longed to go across the street and revisit the Empty Vessel. Oh the memories in that place. The nights he and Momoki had spent bellied up to the bar … one in particular came to mind. The night before his engagement to Ayako. Ehh, well, half a memory of it, anyway. Most was soaked in far too much sake.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>Keep your head together. This is an investigation, after all.</em>
</p><p>
  <span>Momoki came around the side to join him. “You told Ayako, right?”</span>
</p><p>“<span>Oh course. Just in case we get a good lead and this takes a while.”</span></p><p>“<span>Heh, this is actually part of our job tonight. How unusual. Now, we don't know the name of the guy, right? Just that Asato and Tsukamoto met him here a couple of times. Hopefully the barkeep knows what was happening.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Narihisago shrugged, flipping his keys into his pocket. “Won't know til we ask.” He made his way inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The place was cozy. Fancy green and black hexagonal tiles on the floor, slightly worn from the years. The bar had brass embellishments pitted from the age, but it still appeared clean. Tables and booths lined the single room with a number of clients chatting over their drinks. Men and women were well dressed in suits or office attire, attempting to look highbrow. Given they were still in their own work suits, they fit in perfect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tender behind the bar glanced up and tapped his glasses back up his nose. “Welcome gents. Can't say I've seen you before. What can I get you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narihisago sized him up. He was a strong fellow, underneath the vest and apron. No doubt he could take care of himself. His dishwasher hands had that worn look to them as he polished a glass. But it was the eyes that caught him. Even as he watched them approach, he was observing everything. Oh, this was their man. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leaning an elbow on the bar, Narihisago locked eyes with him. “What do you have for sake?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled up a couple of different bottles. The last one to come up was all too familiar. When he pointed to it, the barkeep smiled. “Excellent taste, my new friend. Narihisago Sake is the best.”</span>
</p><p>“<span>I know.” Cracking a grin as it was poured, he moved away from Momoki's elbow ribbing him.</span></p><p>
  <span>The barkeeper looked to Momoki. “And you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head and eyed Narihisago. “Give me some of his father's sake.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The eyebrows raised as he poured it.</span>
</p><p>“<span>Hey, it's been a while since I've had some. And honestly I gotta say, the old man still has his touch.” Narihisago set the empty glass down and met the keep's eyes. “You here a lot?”</span></p><p>“<span>Sure am, I'm the owner.” </span></p><p>“<span>Great.” He pulled out his phone and showed the photo of the two women. “You wouldn't by chance recognize these two would you?”</span></p><p>
  <span>Instantly he nodded. “Course. Regulars here, well, the older of the two at least. Tsukamoto's been here for ages! Poor girl, never was the same after her divorce. You ask me she was better for it. Anyone who ditches a smart cookie like that is a fool.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Momoki sat up. “Did people make passes at her?”</span>
</p><p>“<span>Oh hell yeah. Myself included.” He thumbed his vest as if presenting a prize. “But she just turned me down. She didn't want my name, all she wanted from me was my booze. And that chick drank like a fish! The younger one started to come around last year. Hung with a number of folks.”</span></p><p>“<span>Regulars you knew?”</span></p><p>“<span>You could say that. College grad students and alumi, mostly. Tight bunch.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Narihisago rubbed his chin. “Anyone unusual ever talk with them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyebrow raised. “Several different people over time. Yeah. But Tsukamoto was a social butterfly. She'd talk with anyone. I haven't seen her in a while. Wait, is that why you're here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Momoki nodded and let his badge peek out. “You could say that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He flattened his palm to his chest. “Well that's a shame, there go my chances permanently.”</span>
</p><p>“<span>Anyone else show interest in her?”</span></p><p>
  <span>His eyebrows vanished into his hairline. “Hell yeah. Just about every guy in here … ” he caught the glint of Narihisago's ring and waved his hands, “except for the tied down ones, of course. Eh heh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narihisago chuckled. “What we're looking for is someone they might have met with several times, discussing some science experiments.”</span>
</p><p>“<span>Have to get narrower than that. They were always talking science. Couple times I had to have them move to a corner. The topics got a little … uhhh … dicey.”</span></p><p>“<span>Meaning?”</span></p><p>“<span>Talk about procedures, details for surgeries. Not something the patrons around here wanted to overhear after a long day of work. You know?”</span></p><p>
  <em>Surgeries! </em>
  <span>“Names?” Narihisago tapped a finger on the counter. “Can you tell me who they talked to about such topics?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rubbing his temples, he concentrated for a moment. “Bando, Wiyahara, Nonaka, Saiki, Wakabayashi, Kimoto, … ” He looked to keep going. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narihisago waved his hands in the air. “Ok, ok, I got a good memory, but not </span>
  <span>
    <b>that</b>
  </span>
  <span> good! Can you write those down!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On a napkin he began to scribble the names muttering them aloud as he did so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leaning against the bar, Narihisago looked around again, back toward the corner a commotion began. Two rather glassy-eyed men suddenly stood, shoving one another.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh great, a scuffle. </em>
</p><p>Momoki's head turned, a glint in his eye as he pushed off the stool.</p><p>Too late, Narihisago noted his path toward the men, one finger pushing his jacket back to expose the badge. <em>Better him than me.</em></p><p>He cleared his throat. “That's enough.”</p><p>Neither paid him any heed as one of the men picked up the table and bull rushed the other … on a pathway toward Narihisago.</p><p>With a rather unflattering yelp, Narihisago abandoned his stool diving into the nearest booth and scuttling under the table with his hands covering his head. A huge crash and splintered wood spread across the floor as he clung to the safety of the furniture, peering through splayed fingers. Out there in that mess was the last place he wanted to be.</p><p>Glass shattered. Shouts echoed. Meaty fists pounded … other meaty parts! This was not his strong suit. From his vantage point, Narihisago watched as Momoki attempted to grapple the prior-table-wielding drunkard who started the brawl. He had a thick neck and weighed possibly twice what Momoki did. That man was still intent on strangling his target. There was no way in hell Narihisago was going to stick his neck out there. All he'd be good for was maybe getting in the way.</p><p>The whole place had turned into a chaotic mess as more joined in the melee. A silver-long-haired man stumbled and fell into the booth seat. His panicked eyes met Narihisago's. The way was blocked by a three man pileup. Gripping the seat, the man panted. He was slightly built, if just one of those men fell on him he'd snap like a twig. The moment that the writhing mass of brawlers lurched away enough, he launched his way toward the door in a mad scramble.</p><p>In less than a minute, Narihisago regretted not following as the brute not currently being grappled by Momoki stumbled backward and fell on the overhead table, smashing it to pieces. He found himself pressed by a slab of wood into the floor by a heavy built drunkard without any room to move! Scrambling, he tried to push the guy off, but he was unconscious. “Great!”</p><p>It took a good number of pushes before gravity edged the man enough that he slid off. Narihisago crawled out from underneath and backed into something. He turned to discover he had run into Shingi's back. His coworker tried to dart away, but there was too much debris on the floor to swiftly sidestep. “What the heck are you doing here?”</p><p>He smiled sheepishly. “Uhh, drinking?”</p><p>That was less than convincing.</p><p>A thrown bottle flew through the air. Narihisago ducked just in time. It smashed against the wall behind showering him in glass and alcohol. Retaliation never entered his mind. All he wanted to do was get out of this. But the moment he looked to the doors his way was blocked by three brawling groups.</p><p>And behind them … uniformed law enforcement.</p><p>Narihisago buried his face in his hands. He took out his phone and messaged Ayako. <em>We might be awhile.</em></p><p>A booming, and all too familiar voice, froze the chaos. “What's going on here!”</p><p>Momoki staggered back, holding his side and his torn shirt. His eyes wide with shock. “D—dad?”</p><p>Narihisago patted his shoulder. “Looks like you won't be able to avoid him tonight.”</p><p>Venom entered his eyes as he glared, then his shoulders sagged and he leaned against Narihisago. He muttered, “It's going to be a long night.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>That expression was less than encouraging. In fact, Narihisago wished he was anywhere other than standing in front of Chief Tominaga's desk as the man's nostrils flared with each breath. At his right shoulder Momoki stood with his rumpled and torn jacket hanging awkwardly off his frame, a deep bruise showing through the tear in his once white dress shirt. To his left Shingi hugged himself looking at the floor with bloodshot eyes. Narihisago fared no better, the scent of stale alcohol coming off him and his own attire him the appearance that he had spent the night literally on the barroom floor instead of in lockup alongside everyone else who had swung a fist.</p><p>Sure didn't pay to have a badge last night.</p><p>“Why,” the chief huffed each breath, “were three of my detectives in holding last night?”</p><p>For a few heartbeats no one spoke. Scratching his neck, Narihisago sheepishly offered, “We were investigating? Well, Momoki and I were. We just ran into Shingi.”</p><p>Shingi turned beet red.</p><p>“Investigating?” Rolling his fingers, Tominaga lifted an eyebrow. “At a bar?”</p><p>“There were some photos on Asato's laptop that showed the bar in question … sir. We thought there might be a chance that it could lead to a contact or a lead.”</p><p>“Or a brawl.”</p><p>He held up his hands. “No! Certainly not.”</p><p>Tominaga wrinkled his nose. “You smell like a barroom floor.”</p><p>Ducking his head, he muttered, “That's kinda where I ended up when the scuffle broke out.”</p><p>Momoki gave him a hard stare. “Thanks for the backup.”</p><p>He shrugged.</p><p>“Please tell me you grabbed the napkin with the names.” When Narihisago winced, his eyes flared wide. “You left it?”</p><p>“When I looked back at the bar it was soaked in alcohol and unreadable. And the guy was pissed about his bar getting trashed I didn't think I could persuade him to write it out again … especially after the uni's had us all surrounded. Didn't seem like the time.”</p><p>Grabbing his shoulders he shook him. “Do you remember them?”</p><p>The weight of that truth pulled his gaze to he floor.</p><p>“Shit!”</p><p>“Sorry, Momoki. I had more important things to think about in that moment, like not getting nailed by a flying bottle. Maybe if you hadn't been playing sumo wrestler … ”</p><p>The chief grabbed the sides of his head. “I can't believe this.” Slamming a fist on the desk he shouted, “You've embarrassed my division enough! All three of you are dismissed for today. Administrative leave while I deal with the bar owner.”</p><p>Momoki held out his hands. “But sir, we didn't start anything!”</p><p>“You sure as hell didn't help the situation any! Now <b>out</b>!”</p><p>Chafed by his thunderous declaration, they turned and slunk out of his office. Out on the department floor, everyone was watching as the trio kept their heads down. Applause broke out. Heat rose to Narihisago's face as he rubbed the back of his neck.</p><p>
  <em>This could have gone a lot better.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <b>~ID~</b>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Rubbing his hair with a towel after his shower, Akihito dodged Muku tearing through the hallway wearing her white and red kitsune mask. “Shhh! No one can see me!” She giggled.</p><p>He gave a crooked smile that faded the moment Ayako glared at him from the doorway. “Administrative leave?”</p><p>Covering his face with the towel he muttered, “Wrong place, wrong time. It's all a misunderstanding.”</p><p>She picked up the edge and peeked under it. “And who locked you up in holding all last night?”</p><p>He tugged the towel back down to hide the embarrassment.</p><p>“Dad! Seriously, you two. You went to follow a lead and got into a fight.”</p><p>Tugging off the towel he pointed to Funetaro.</p><p>He replied from the couch, nursing his bruised side with an ice pack. “I got in the fight, your husband bravely hid under a table.”</p><p>“Until that table broke under a drunk man, yes.”</p><p>Ayako's expression thawed, she caressed his cheek. “Awww, poor Aki. Did that hurt?”</p><p>He sighed. “I think my pride's more injured from the chief's office and the parade of shame following.”</p><p>On the couch, Funetaro grumbled, “You weren't in the interrogation room when Dad decided to grill me like an actual perp.”</p><p>Muku stood behind Akihito hugging his leg and peering through the eye holes of the mask offering him a cheeky grin when he glanced down. “Daddy, no see me!”</p><p>That brought a smile to his face. A knock at the door stalled any more discussion. With Muku hanging off his jean shorts, he dragged her toward the door. “Honey, have you seen Muku today? My leg feels so heavy for some reason!” He grinned, opening the door. And the second he looked up, shock replaced it.</p><p>Commissioner Momoki removed his hat.</p><p>“I uhhh … sir … what are you … you've never … here … my home … ”</p><p>“Akihito, am I to assume that Funetaro is inside?”</p><p>He couldn't say anything, just slid his eyes over to where Funetaro sat on the couch frozen in shock from the voice.</p><p>“My apologies for this only being the first time I stopped by your place, Akihito. And I must ask something else.” He entered and locked eyes with Ayako and Funetaro. “If we might have some time alone.”</p><p>Recovering himself a bit, Akihito nodded slowly even as Funetaro's eyes widened. “Hey, uhh, since I have the day off why don't Muku and I go to the park.” Grabbing his keys and taking the child's hand, she cheered and pulled back her mask. “I here! Let's go play!”</p><p>“Wait!” Funetaro pleaded.</p><p>With a single backward glance, Akihito shrugged, closing the door behind him as the excited toddler yanked him out the door. At least he was able to escape this, though he felt sorry for Funetaro.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <b>~ID~</b>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Funetaro shifted, trying to back away as his father awkwardly entered the room gesturing for Ayako to take a seat.</p><p>He remained standing, staring down, hands fiddling with his hat.</p><p>Taking a seat in the now far too quiet without the antics of a toddler apartment, Ayako took Funetaro's hand. He felt her heartbeat racing through the skin of her sweaty palm. Or was the sweat his? He couldn't tell. Maybe it was both of them.</p><p>“I had to look up this place because I honestly wasn't sure where you lived, Ayako.” That wasn't the booming voice from last night. This wasn't the confident man he was used to seeing.</p><p>Funetaro glanced at Ayako and shrugged a shoulder at the strange sight. She looked equally as perplexed.</p><p>“Hear me out.” He set his hat on the table. “Tradition. Yes … tradition is everything to the Momoki family name. We have been keepers of the peace since the age of the sword handing down the privilege to each generation. We have been a productive family, or tales filled with the legends of great deeds and bringing changes as the ages turned.”</p><p>Was he blushing?</p><p>“That … that is what I have missed. Tradition should not have been everything. I had two wonderful children … ” he glanced up and them swiftly back down, “who are now adults that I know next to nothing about it. And it took a son-in-law's frank words to make me realize that. If it isn't too late,” he went down onto his knees and did a full bow of supplication, “I would like to apologize and get to know them.”</p><p>Funetaro forgot to breathe as he witnessed his prostrate father. His first sound was a squeak. Clearing his throat, he shook his head and started again. “I uhh … sure?”</p><p>Getting up off the couch, Ayako went to him, pressed her hands against his shoulders and forced him up. She smiled. “It's about time.”</p><p>He embraced her in a hug. “I hear you know a lot of lullabies.”</p><p>She furrowed her brow. “Aki!”</p><p>He laughed and turned to Funetaro. “Son … I truly want to know, what did you really want to do with your life?”</p><p>His jaw hung, a pressure in his chest. There was no ready answer for that. But … the man had asked. That meant everything.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <b>~ID~</b>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The sun poured down through the trees as Muku darted around the park, the streamer of her red and gold scarf tied around her waist to resemble a tail flowing behind her. Her giggled delight emitted from behind the kitsune's clever mask. Trailing behind, Akihito watched her galavanting as she snuck up on the other adults watching their children in the park. The weather was pleasant enough. He wasn't fond of being taken off duty for the day, but he could think of worse ways to spend it than watching Muku play outside.</p><p>Birds sang and insects chirruped to the chorus of children laughing.</p><p>A group ran up towards Muku she pulled her mask up and put a finger to lips. “Shhh! You no see me!” Pulling it back down she tip toed around the children.</p><p>“Wanna play tag?” One of them asked.</p><p>“Kay!”</p><p>Just like that the impromptu game began. Akihito sat down on the hillside keeping the knot of children in sight as Muku darted around intent on the game.</p><p>A familiar young girl wandered through the park looking down at her untied shoe. She held a stack of fliers in her hands.</p><p>“Hey.” He waved to her.</p><p>When she glanced up at him her eyes brightened. “I know you! The officer, right?”</p><p>He nodded. “Yeah.” His brow furrowed. “Still no luck with … Haru wasn't it?”</p><p>At the name, her nose scrunched up and she sniffled.</p><p>Still keeping an eye on Muku as she pulled her mask down and 'vanished' from the other children, Akihito heaved a sigh. The case invaded the back of his mind. “I'm sorry she's still missing. Hopefully she'll turn up soon. Tokyo is a pretty big place. She could be anywhere, even with someone who might be taking care of her and trying to find you. Lost things can take a while to find.”</p><p>“Do you think she's eating enough? Haru is a picky eater.”</p><p>“Oh, I'm sure she is.” The fib felt better than his fear.</p><p>The gaggle of children migrated his way, Muku stalking them with her mask pulled up. “Rawr! And I magic you all away because I am not a human. Poof!” She tugged it down. “I am actually a fox! Kitsune magic!”</p><p>The children screamed and laughed in delight, using Akihito as a hiding place. He chuckled, lifting his arms as they crawled around and through.</p><p>“Kumiko!” The girl with the fliers looked up at the voice calling from across the park. “Come on, Kumiko, we're going home.”</p><p>She waved. “Bye Mr. officer!”</p><p>Akihito waved as she dashed off.</p><p>Muku climbed up his shoulders, mask on waving her fingers and making a crackly noise. “Crrroooooosh! Muku makes you vanish!”</p><p>“Me?”</p><p>“No, Daddy.” She pointed to the giggling children. “Them.”</p><p>“Ahhh, I was gonna say. Who was going to make dinner tonight if you vanished me?”</p><p>She pushed up her mask and blinked. “Momma or Uncle Moki.”</p><p>“But it's my turn. What do you want?”</p><p>Throwing her hands in the air she grinned. “Curry!”</p><p>“Curry it is.” <em>Provided my apartment is still in one piece.</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>How could this be happening? Matsuoka glared across his desk at the shamefaced Shingi. He would have received the scalding lecture yesterday, but due to the administrative leave he wasn't within reach.</p><p>“Sir, you have to believe me. It wasn't my fault.” Shingi tugged on his tie. “I was staying toward the back, I doubt they had even seen me from their seats at the bar. Then the fight broke out. I nearly got out of there unseen when I bumped into Narihisago climbing out from underneath the wreckage of a table.”</p><p>“Where he'd been thrown?” Matsuoka rolled his fingers on his desk. His knuckle grazing the rake of the zen garden.</p><p>Shingi's eyebrows shot up. “Uhhh no, sir. The moment the fight broke out he dove under it.”</p><p>“Don't be ridiculous!”</p><p>“Honest!” He held up a hand. “I watched him do it.”</p><p>The heat built in his fists. “Out now!”</p><p>Skittering to the door, Shingi paused there with his hand on the knob. “Am I … am I still your assistant?”</p><p>Matsuoka's fist pounded on the desk. That sent the young detective into a clumsy flight out the door. Alone, he grabbed the rake and started to carve deep circles in the sand. Harsh at first, then gradually in smoother, thoughtful motions.</p><p>What was he going to do about this situation. The chief had not been thrilled yesterday, but this morning both the rookies were back at their desks, noses into their work. He hadn't heard a peep from them. Every time he made an excuse to wander through the bullpen they we scrolling through files on their computers.</p><p>Scraping the rake in the sand he sighed. They were bungling things, there wasn't a doubt in Matsuoka's mind. Soon they would need him. He would be there to show them how this was really done. He would remind the everyone about the proper way to be a detective.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <b>~ID~</b>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Momoki wandered back into the office with a bag in his hands. Striding straight to his desk he glanced across to find Narihisago precisely as he had left him, looming over his laptop obsessively scrolling through file after file, hour after endless hour. How his eyes weren't drying out was a mystery in and of itself.</p><p>Digging though the bag he set out a hastily purchased lunch and pulled out a couple items he'd picked up for his partner from the nearby market. Coming around he set the can of green tea on Narihisago's desk and opened the container pulling out an egg sandwich and pressing it into his hand. When he belatedly looked at it, surprise on his face, Momoki pointed, “Eat! I knew it would be pointless to try and get you to leave, but did you even notice I'd been missing?”</p><p>A flare of embarrassment crossed his features, he tried to conceal it by taking a bite of the sandwich.</p><p>Somehow he'd been expecting that. “Given that we've been at this all morning, do you have anything at all?”</p><p>Scratching the side of his head he shut one eye and stared toward the ceiling. “There are a lot research facilities in Tokyo.”</p><p>Momoki flopped down in his chair and groaned into a hand. “How can you do this for hours on end and not give up?”</p><p>Swallowing a bite of the sandwich he leaned on an elbow. “Because it's just a matter of glimpsing the one essential clue then it will all make sense.”</p><p>“This isn't a neatly laid out novel plot where everything falls into place.”</p><p>Not in the least bit swayed, he took another bite and chewed it over before replying. “The process is still the same. It's just a matter of asking the right question.”</p><p>Matsuoka's door opened. The grizzled man wandered out with a coffee mug in his hand drifting their way even though that was a massive detour to reach the break room. This wasn't his first time. Momoki had marked five trips just this morning.</p><p>Belatedly he realized Narihisago was still talking. “You just have to look at all the facts no matter how strange they are. Like that old question, which came first the chicken or the egg. It seems like an impossible answerless question until you really look at it.”</p><p>“Narihisago,” Momoki folded his arms, “this isn't the time for some pointless thought experiment. We're in trouble here, unless we start to show progress we could get benched. Do you want to be a uni again?”</p><p>“Not really.” He muttered, but his eyes were staring at the sandwich. “Which came first … the chicken or the egg … ” His words came slow and distant, eyes un-focusing as they stared.</p><p>Momoki knew that expression. He leaned forward, getting to his feet. He would give anything to glimpse behind the curtain of the complex thought process inside that man's head.</p><p>“It's not about the chicken … never was. There were eggs long before there were chickens in a long line of evolution. The process.” It was started. He'd set the sandwich down, one hand covering the right side of his face as he continued on a staggering thought path that Momoki listened to while watching over his shoulder … behind him, Matsuoka paused as other detectives around the room keyed in, drawn into the voice just above a whisper.</p><p>“It's not eggs, though. It's more basic than eggs. It's the cells. The key subject of all the papers. Cells and tags, self and not-self: identification. Like hiding behind a mask one cell can become another, from another source entirely. That's the problem, finding the source and masking it. Hiding it from the body so that it only sees it as self.”</p><p>Narihisago shook his head. “Science and fiction, paths intertwined. One drives the other forward and back. In the pages, concealed from the eyes of other men on an island, the experiments of Dr. Moreau where he played God speak out their frightening truth. Transplants through vivisection from one creature to another to create man from animal. That was for another purpose, a fiction purpose. Our scientists, the ones Asato looked at, they were after the perfect anti-rejection process for transplanting organs. To once again make parts<em> for</em> man<em> from</em> animal. But the tissue itself stands in the way. Immunomarkers. How do you fool the immune system?”</p><p>His fingers pounded the keyboard running through the files on a maddening sprint that Momoki tried to follow but his eyes were not fast enough. Narihisago dashed relentlessly onward. “The problem is the lists of donors are too short, the typing too specific, and even then suppression of the immune system is needed or the body rejects it. Just like blood type, if you could find a universal donor type that would be ideal, an O- tissue equivalent. Better yet, if you could grow it. And there was a way, sort of. Where was it … it was one of the retracted papers … aha!”</p><p>Momoki leaned closer as he pointed at the screen and declared. “Stem cells, which are of course controversial. A type of basic cell with great potential to become anything from organs to bones to skin. Most people know about the one source, but there are others. Adults have them too.” He patted the back of his neck. “Trouble is the one study showing major promise couldn't be replicated. Which happens, failure is part of learning, a critical part of honest science. But, just like in the case of that damn paper that cherry-picked data falsely linking autism to vaccines, sometimes people believe in the study with dire consequences even after it's been repeatedly shown to be faulty. And there was one study in our four suspicious ones that checks all the boxes.</p><p>“You can't grow and harvest organs in live human hosts. That is deemed unethical. But … ” He pointed to the retracted paper on the screen. “Animal hosts, stem cells from the neck nerve bundles, surgical procedures, and one helluva breach in the ethics code.” His fingers flew over the keys doing a rapid search as he spoke, entering names. “We missed Tsukamoto, her name is right here on the paper.”</p><p>“Uhh, Narihisago. That's Kito.”</p><p>He finished a keystroke. “Yasu Kito, because she was married during the study. Remember our bartender mentioned the divorce? See the date? A year after the fallout from this retracted paper she went back to her maiden name, Yasu Tsukamoto. Now if we look at the others involved in this …” entering another search he rapidly shook his head. “Nope, not Makoto Hatanaka. Heh, he's still locked up in a psych ward babbling nonsense. Apparently from the aftermath of this experiment. That doesn't bode well.”</p><p>Matsuoka shook his head. “This is thin, rookie! Thin as a strand of hair. You're not getting anything from this … ”</p><p>The words did nothing to stop the momentum, like a rock rolling down an ever steeper steep hill. “The last was Nobu Wakabayashi.”</p><p>Momoki stiffened upright. “Wait … did we … ?”</p><p>Not looking up, Narihisago continued his search. “That name came up at Asture, and … what do we have here?” He pointed to the screen. “Wakabayashi is alive and well. Oh not only that, but the owner of a warehouse by the docks.”</p><p>Chief Tominaga leaned into Momoki's line of sight startling both him and Matsuoka. “I've seen that address come up before. Something about a noise complaint. But by the time the uni's got there they didn't hear anything. That was a while back, months ago.”</p><p>“Chief,” Matsuoka folded his arms, “you can't be taking this seriously. He's based it on the plot of some lame book! It's absolutely ridiculous!”</p><p>He took out his phone dialing as he nodded to Narihisago. “Hey, I'm gonna need a warrant for a search. Standby for the info. We need this STAT … thanks.” Waving a hand to the computer, he gave the address to send the request to. “Alright, once that comes in, I want you two to investigate with the uni's when they arrive.”</p><p>Momoki's heart thudded against his ribs. Narihisago winked up at Momoki. “Told you, just needed that one clue.” He took a bite of the sandwich waiting for the reply to come through.</p><p>“Sir,” Matsuoka protested, “what if they are wrong. Officers responded before and found nothing.”</p><p>“But no one entered the building since it was quiet. At that time it was not enough of a cause to enter.”</p><p>“The thin thread of science fiction from a bookworm is enough?”</p><p>Narihisago interrupted. “It's more than that. He has ties to at least three of the victims.”</p><p>“Three?”</p><p>“Tsukamoto, Asato, and,” Narihisago caught himself, “Victim #5. Not to mention he was the head of the initial experiment. Following the retraction of his prize paper Wakabayashi lost his credentials. Without that there's only one way to try and recover his reputation. Underground operations. And he … was a surgeon. I doubt he was killing them on purpose. Just trial runs on the procedure trying to force it to work.”</p><p>“There's no way this shithead rookie is right!” Matsuoka's shout echoed in the silent office.</p><p>Without blinking, Narihisago folded his arms and confidently met his gaze. “Here's what we'll find out there. An illegal laboratory with a makeshift surgical suite and cages for animals. Those will contain dogs and cats, many of which are the missing pets around Tokyo. I would also bet that we'll find evidence of a place where he was keeping human,” he did air quotes, “volunteers for his study.”</p><p>The chief shifted his gaze between the two and grinned. “Well Matsuoka? Sounds like you're on the team to investigate.”</p><p>“What?” He gawked. “But sir, this is just going to be an empty warehouse!”</p><p>“Then you'll be back in no time.” He glanced down at the screen. “There's your warrant boys, let's put this to bed.”</p><p>Narihisago shifted his glance to the screen and stood up, putting on his jacket with a confident swing. “Alright senior detective, let's go see if my hunch holds water.”</p><p>“Loser buys the winner a drink.”</p><p>“Fair.” Narihisago held out a hand. “Shake on it!”</p><p>Matsuoka's brow furrowed, but he clasped the hand before the two started out of the office.</p><p>Momoki heard the chief huff a breath. “Bout damn time!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gulls circled on the wind crying out into the afternoon sunlight sparkling on the distant waves. The salty tang in the air flavored it. Not just the salt, the scent of oil and pitch clung to the docks in the heat of the mid-summer day. Cargo ships in port stirred with a flurry of activity as their crews loaded or unloaded them.</p><p>But not at this end of the shipyard.</p><p>Momoki got out of the car staring at the crumbling dock that was all but roped off to prevent its use. In his opinion it should have been. Cargo containers, great rusted hulks, sat all but discarded beside a large warehouse's dock. The building reeked of old fish. The pealing paint of a sign above the main door bore a smiling cartoonish narwhal skewering a fish on its horn and leaping through a four pointed star. The logo of the old North Star fishing operation that had gone out of business years ago.</p><p>A squad of officers accompanied them, gearing up outside their vehicles.</p><p>It seemed like a pointless task, this place appeared utterly deserted. But Momoki reached back to make sure he had his gun. The grip felt like a relief in his hand, just in case. Leaning on the other side of the car, Narihisago took in the warehouse with wandering eyes. Back in the office before he'd put his suit jacket back on, Momoki had spotted the holstered gun on his belt. Rules were rules, and they were out in the field. As much Narihisago wasn't fond of packing heat, he still did it.</p><p>Matsuoka pulled up and stepped out of his car wrinkling his brow. “This place is a mess.”</p><p>Narihisago nodded. “Perfect to conceal an operation.” He pointed around, “Located at the more remote end of the shipyard. But there's a lot of noise and activity concealing it from the entry point. After decades of operation as a fish processor there's no hope of getting that scent out. That would cover a myriad of different odors.” Something caught his attention, and he shot off toward the building.</p><p>“Rookie, wait!” Matsuoka reached a hand out, but it was too late.</p><p>Following along at a jog, Momoki called over his shoulder to his senior, “His name's Narihisago, although I doubt even that'll work at the moment.”</p><p>Sure enough, Momoki found Narihisago circling around a utility truck. Bending over he eyed the back bumper especially. From this close, Momoki caught a whiff of a putrid odor as Narihisago pointed to the dried blood droplets. “Well now, that looks like evidence to me.”</p><p>“Smells like it, too.” Momoki tapped his nose.</p><p>“A truck like this would easily be able haul away the evidence we found near the quarry. And look, see the gravel? Bet that's a match!” Grabbing the latch, he opened the back and the stench increased. Light pouring in struck what looked like a floor painted unevenly in a dark reddish-brown. Far more than just a few droplets, and clearly deposited over time.</p><p>Stepping away from the vehicle, Narihisago's eyes narrowed. “Now the ultimate question. What lies in the warehouse? Though I suspect I already know. Brace yourself.”</p><p>Momoki didn't like the lack of levity in his voice. Instead of going to the front door, quite suddenly he followed a pathway formed by dark deposited stains between the truck leading to the warehouse's side door. No hesitation, Narihisago tried the knob. It was locked.</p><p>“Hold up, I'll go get the uni's so they can breach the door.” Dashing off, Momoki rounded the building. So far this was promising. Even if they hadn't already come with a warrant that bloody truck was suspicious as hell. Good ol' Narihisago's instincts. Although, Momoki recalled his description of what they would find and the conditions of the corpses. Now he wasn't so certain he wanted him to be correct.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <b>~ID~</b>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The windows were frosted with grime. Narihisago rubbed at it, smearing the fog and barely making a noticeable difference. Inside it was dark, difficult to make out much beyond outlines, his eyes were too adjusted to the bright daylight to catch any real details. Large shapes lined the edges, a faint gleam on metal surfaces. A touch of color caught his attention, the vibrant orange of extension cords stretching from the walls and climbing up toward devices with tiny pinpoints of light.</p><p>Through the blurry film there was no way of identifying what that was. But he had a feeling that was some type of medical monitor. Hopefully not currently in use.</p><p>He jiggled the handle again, but the door wouldn't budge. At the sound he thought he saw a hint of movement inside. The slightest motion caught in the light thrown from the machine.</p><p>The squeal of hinges in desperate need of oiling turned his head toward the cargo containers. The doors were around the corner, out of Narihisago's line of sight. None of them had been open when he'd first seen them.</p><p>Curious, he wandered over toward the doors, edging closer to the rickety dock creaking with each wave. Somehow a set was unlatched, the door slightly ajar. He was quite certain he hadn't been mistaken earlier. Gripping the edge of it, the door groaned, the entire container an echo chamber exhaling a foul breath of air.</p><p>The click of a gun's safety being turned off caught his ear. Narihisago stared straight down the barrel of a 9mm sig sauer. That, in and of itself, was alarming. He lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender and stared directly into the eyes of not quite a stranger.</p><p>“Hey, I know you! From Asture!”</p><p>The silver-longhaired man from the bar stared back through the sight of the gun, blanching as his breath caught in his chest. His pupils widened. “Tch?”</p><p>Narihisago smiled, “Nobu Wakabayashi, may I presume.”</p><p>His jaw hung loose. “How did you … but that's … who told you? Was it the barkeep?”</p><p>“Well, I got it from the research papers.” Keeping his hands up, Narihisago averted his eyes as he thought about it for a moment. “Come to think of it, yes. He did mention your name.”</p><p>With a snarl, Wakabayashi pushed him backward a few steps, edging Narihisago out toward the edge of the creaking dock. “That annoying fool!” He grabbed a lock of his hair and pulled hard, the gun still aimed at Narihisago. “I should have known that he'd get suspicious. Watching, always watching!”</p><p>It did not escape Narihisago that the man wore a lab coat that had obviously seen better days and was in desperate need of laundering. And wow did he have a steady hand on that gun pointed at—Narihisago realized as a bead of sweat dripped down his forehead, if there had been a laser sight the little red dot would be on his heart.</p><p>
  <em>This. Suddenly. Got. Real.</em>
</p><p>“Well, to be honest that barkeeper didn't really know much.” Narihisago shrugged fighting to keep calm seeing as how there was no possible way of getting past the muzzle of the gun without getting shot. Not a prospect he was eager to experience. “He just told us a list of names is all.”</p><p>His eyebrow twitched. “Eh? Names? Why was he telling you names? Who is <em>us</em>?”</p><p>“My partner and I.” He glanced down toward the badge on his belt. That was either going to be a blessing or a serious fuck up.</p><p>Wakabayashi followed the visual cue. The moment he caught sight of the badge he pressed forward, grinding his teeth. “You're trespassing, officer!”</p><p>
  <em>Fuck up! Definitely a fuck up!</em>
</p><p>“Technically no. You see we're here with a warrant. I'm afraid I don't have it on me at the moment. But if you let me go talk with my partner we can sort this out. Someone has a copy.”</p><p>“Do you take me for an idiot?”</p><p>A lot of potential responses popped in his head. Most of those unlikely to disarm this situation. At length, Narihisago gave a short laugh. “Certainly not, at one time you were a doctor.”</p><p>He pressed forward again, snarling, “I still am!”</p><p>The edge of the crumbling dock fell away beneath Narihisago's heel landing with an ominous splash. He glanced nervously behind him at the waves below. “Uhh huh, yeah doctor it is. Look, we can sort this out without anyone else getting hurt or killed.”</p><p>“I have no idea what you're talking about.”</p><p>“See?” He tried to smile hoping it would ease the tension, but the tension only increased as he glanced toward the truck. Narihisago stuttered, “h-hey, I'm sure you have a very good reason for what you're doing here. Right?”</p><p>Slowly, his crazed eyes drifted back to Narihisago. He nodded. “Doctors save lives. I am still a doctor.”</p><p>“Certainly.”<em> One with a revoked license, but not gonna bring that little detail up. </em>“These experiments, these trials are very important to you.”</p><p>The smile twisted, his gaze zeroed in on Narihisago. “So important I can't let anyone stop them. Not even some damn nosy cop!”</p><p>
  <em>Oh, this went to hell in a hand basket rather quickly. Clearly not going to be able to talk my out of this!</em>
</p><p>In horror, Narihisago watched as time seemed to creep one millisecond at a time as Wakabayashi committed to pulling the trigger.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <b>~ID~</b>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Momoki froze at the corner of the building, the officers pushed ahead toward the warehouse's side door preparing to breach. Something was missing. Where the hell was Narihisago?</p><p>He was nowhere to be seen.</p><p>BANG!</p><p>Over by the dock the report of a gunshot mercilessly snatched his attention. He turned in time to see the splash of a large, human-sized object hitting the water.</p><p>BANG! BANG! BANG!</p><p>“<b>Narihisago!</b>”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>All sound muted as the water crashed in overhead shutting off access to air. Pulled by momentum, Narihisago sunk backside first staring up into the shimmering rays of the sun piercing the water.</p><p>That wasn't the only thing piercing the surface!</p><p>In an explosion of bubbles he watched as a small projectile burst in and slowed to a sudden stop over his head. Three more followed in rapid succession, stopping in a line just inches from his chest. The last one actually plinked harmlessly against the button of his shirt.</p><p>Luckily he'd gotten a good breath before throwing himself backward, and his hunch had been proven right! That was one really cool perspective of how bullets and water don't mix.</p><p>Who knew—water was bullet proof. Well—Narihisago did now.</p><p>Floating wide-eyed below the surface, he heard the bass thud of more shots fired and the doctor's blurred form stagger backward accompanied by a muted scream.</p><p>Lungs burning and needles of pain translated to the rather stunned Narihisago that maybe it was time to break his impression of a fish for want of air. Thrashing toward the surface, he broke through with an alarmed shout, “<b>Fuck</b> that's cold!” He swore his fingers were blue as he gripped the splintered edge of the dock.</p><p>Momoki's gun clattered as he dropped it on the dock, sliding to the edge and reaching down to grip his wrist. “I thought you had drowned!”</p><p>Teeth chattering, Narihisago hauled himself from the water, his suit weighing a lot more than it should. “Nah, I learned how to swim as a kid.”</p><p>“But you were shot!”</p><p>He spread his arms looking around his torso for any holes. After all, that water was cold enough he was numb. It was possible he had been and just couldn't feel it. “Heh, nope, no blood. I back-flopped before Wakabayashi pulled the trigger. I was already in the water before the first bullet could hit me. Saved by physics.” He wrapped his arms around himself. “Probably gonna die of hypothermia. It's summer! That shouldn't have been that cold!” True, he'd been used to lakes. Oceans clearly behaved differently.</p><p>Momoki cuffed him over the head. “You reckless … genius!”</p><p>Behind them on the dock, Wakabayashi gripped his knee wailing as blood oozed between his fingers. Matsuoka stormed up behind Wakabayashi, a pair of cuffs in his hand. Kicking the perp's gun out of the way he grabbed his wrists and cuffed them even as the man cried out. But Matsuoka's eyes blazed at Narihisago. At his signal a pair of officers came up behind him and hauled Wakabayashi away toward the SWAT vehicles. That done, Matsuoka turned his hostile glare Narihisago, grabbing him by his collar and tie. Matsuoka's rage trembling hand held him up as he dripped seawater all over the dock. Through clenched teeth he growled, “What the hell did you think you were doing!”</p><p>Narihisago stared back trying to brush the sopping strands of hair from his eyes. “Investigating a sound.”</p><p>Shaking him enough to clatter his teeth, Matsuoka snapped. “The man was threatening you with a gun. What's this?” He pointed at the still secured gun in Narihisago's holster.</p><p>With an embarrassed shrug, Narihisago really wished the senior detective wasn't holding his collar so tight. “Well you see, sir … there's this … uhhh … I got a problem … ”</p><p>“Oh, you got a problem! Dunces like you put others at risk. You're lucky your partner is a good shot! Why didn't you pull your own gun like you should have!”</p><p>Momoki picked up his firearm and re-holstered it. “Sir, please, let me explain something about Narihisago.”</p><p>Matsuoka rolled his eyes over to Momoki. “What?”</p><p>Suddenly Momoki shifted his eyes to the ground. “He's … he's actually … he's a pacifist.”</p><p>Slowly, Matsuoka's gaze climbed back to Narihisago's sheepish grin. The scars on the older man's face puckered. “You're what?”</p><p>“A pacifist. I try to avoid conflict.”</p><p>The knuckles of the fist holding his collar shifted one at a time as the eyes stared on in disbelief. “Let me get this straight. You didn't pull your gun because you didn't want to hurt anyone?”</p><p>“Pretty much sums it up, yeah.”</p><p>“I don't believe this.” With a shove, Matsuoka pushed Narihisago off the dock into the water.</p><p>“Ahh blllluuurrrrggg!” This time, unprepared for the dive, he hadn't gotten a good breath. Resurfacing, he coughed and hacked up seawater as he floundered back to the dock. Once more, Momoki's hand reached down to help him up. Teeth chattering, he clung to the splintered wood and eyed Matsuoka's back a fair distance from them now. “Can't say ...” he gasped, “... I like him.” He hacked up a bit more water and spat it back into the ocean.</p><p>“He's just pissed cause you're right.”After pulled his partner from the water, Momoki eyed the distant Matsuoka shouting orders to the SWAT team in process. Sending a message though his phone, Momoki turned back to Narihisago. “Well, we have a warehouse to shove in his face.”</p><p>“Hey, what did you just do?”</p><p>Holding up the screen so he could read it, Narihisago laughed at the message on the screen sent to the chief. <em>Stitcher in custody. Can now add attempted assault charges. Someone was right. Someone else is not happy about that. </em>“That'll bring him down here in a hurry.”</p><p>“Seriously, are you ok?”</p><p>Narihisago took his jacket off and wrung out half the ocean. “Other than a pending case of pneumonia, I'm fine.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <b>~ID~</b>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Standing outside the warehouse's side door, Momoki glanced at Narihisago, by now in the heat of the summer day he had at least stopped chattering his teeth. In a way Momoki had to suppress the urge to laugh at the memory of Narihisago's quite startled expression when he'd been flung back into the water the second time. If he'd gotten hurt it would have been another thing, but he was fine other than being soaked to the bone, something he'd already been anyway.</p><p>The SWAT officers pried the door open, the frame creaked in protest as the doorjamb pressed further apart. Until at last with a pop the latch broke free and the door pushed inward. In full gear, a team rushed in, guns first.</p><p>“Do you think he had any accomplices?”</p><p>Narihisago shrugged, his eyes locked on the door, but he waited for the all clear. Obviously the one altercation was enough for him.</p><p>From here Momoki could pickup Matsuoka loudly interrogating Wakabayashi. If the man was replying, what he was saying was not appeasing their senior detective. The fact was Wakabayashi didn't precisely seem like he was particularly sane. That was a given considering the nature of his clandestine experiments. It was shaping up to be a long day.</p><p>“What did you say we'd find in here?”</p><p>“Cages.” He murmured, hands in his pockets. “A surgical suite, and if we're lucky—no current victim on his operating table.”</p><p>That was ominous. “Why do you say that? Did you see something through the window?”</p><p>He only stiffened a bit sending a chill as biting as grabbing has hand had been from the ocean's cold waters.</p><p>A voice called out from the direction of the docks. “Detective sir? Uhhh … ” the officer looked rather pale, “We got something over here you might wanna see.”</p><p>Momoki clapped a hand on Narihisago's shoulder. “Divide and conquer. You check the warehouse out. I'll see what they found.”</p><p>Jogging to the officer's side he slowed to match the pace as they approached a different cargo container. Another pale officer stood back. Even before Momoki cleared the door he heard harsh breathing.</p><p>Inside he discovered bars welded from floor to ceiling trapping a man behind the padlocked door. Halfway lying on the ground, he leaned against the bars, reaching out and staring with feverish eyes. A bandage around his neck and pinprick bruises on his arms. Rushing to the bars, Momoki touched his feverish hand. “Hold on. We'll get you out of here.”</p><p>The man smiled and fell against the bars, relief flickered in his eyes as he lost consciousness.</p><p>Momoki waved to the officers. “We need to get this door opened and an ambulance, STAT. Move it.”</p><p>The pulse was thready, his skin far too warm. Not surprising as this cargo container was basically a hot box in the summer day. Momoki glanced at the officer who remained standing at his side. “The others?”</p><p>“Set up similar to this one. There's evidence that something had been confined in them for a length of time. Unsanitary conditions at best.”</p><p>It staggered the imagination to think of being confined in this dark container with no air conditioning, no running water, no bed or toilet. The stench was foul. “Has he said his name?”</p><p>He shook his head.</p><p>“We'll get more from him once he recovers in the hospital. Though I suspect I know what he'll be saying.” Carefully he tugged the bandage free and his heart sunk. A puckering row of stitches blazing with infection. That explained the fever.</p><p>“Poor bastard.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <b>~ID~</b>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Inside the building reeked of a miasma comprised of ill-kept animals, sanitizers, all mingled with stale fishery. Cleared to enter, Narihisago padded in dreading that his prediction had been right.</p><p>Rows and rows of stacked cages lined the edges of the warehouse, more than he could count in the dim overhead light. Many of them … empty, but clearly having been used. It was practically silent inside the vast building. He heaved a sigh as a number of the dogs and cats stared through the bars, many looked vaguely familiar to him from the posters around town. They were quiet, too quiet as he passed. Eyelids drooping, heads laying in paws.</p><p>A strange scent ghosted through the air. In the quiet a vague hissing sound stole his attention. He turned his head toward it and for a moment the floor jumped out from beneath his feet. He caught his balance on an empty cage, nearly knocking it over.</p><p>He was dizzy. The air a bit heavy.</p><p>No wonder the animals were barely reactive. Dimly he looked toward the pinprick lights in the device in the center of the room. The overhead lights barely illuminated the device, a surgical monitor. On the table, beneath the shut off surgical lamp, a figure lay with a mask secured over the muzzle. Narihisago staggered toward the furry creature, his vision blurring the closer he got. The hissing grew stronger.</p><p>Clumsily, he grabbed the valve and turned it til it was silent. Now he wished that like the SWAT he'd been wearing a filtration mask. The floor tilted, but his hands gripping the table kept his balance. Pulling out the tubes and wires, he scooped up the medium sized dog that lay flopping in his arms and staggered toward the door.</p><p>The moment he hit fresh air and drew in a breath his head began to clear. Still clutching the dog to his chest, he called out to one of the SWAT officers. “Break the windows, air out the room … knock out gas leak. There are live animals in there.”</p><p>That got everyone's attention. Suddenly they swarmed on the building to the sound of breaking glass.</p><p>In the shade of an awning, Narihisago laid the dog down and checked it out. No incisions that he could see in the brown fur of the neck. He blinked for a moment, head still foggy from the drugged air. Brown? Brown and white fur? Tipped ears. Lifting the hind leg he parted the fur and couldn't believe it.</p><p>The dog's eyes opened a bit. Leaning closer to her, he patted her shoulder. “Haru?”</p><p>Her brush tail rose and fell in a semblance of a wag.</p><p>Instantly he pulled out his phone, which luckily had a waterproof case, and brought up the image of the poster dialing the phone number as fast as his fingers could.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Beneath Narihisago's hands, combing through Haru's fur in slow strokes, the still drowsy dog thumped her tail rhythmically. She breathed steadily, her tongue trying to coordinate licking the hand he leaned on as he knelt by her side. Around him a flurry of activity continued, SWAT officers in full gear smashed the windows and threw open the loading doors, ventilating the warehouse and starting to haul out the cages from around the corner. Chief Tominaga pulled up just behind the wailing sirens of an ambulance. He barely closed the car door before darting off toward the flurry of activity.</p><p>Narihisago only spared a single glance before turning back to Haru as she released a quiet whine. “You're alright now. Whatever that asshole tried to do to you, it's over.”</p><p>This time her tongue flicked out, catching the skin of his wrist in a quick kiss.</p><p>He smiled.</p><p>Another car pulled up, hardly stopping before the door opened followed by the cries of a young girl. “Haru! Haru! You found Haru!”</p><p>Beneath his hand, the dog shifted, scrambling to stand and failing.</p><p>“Easy, easy now.” Narihisago braced her. “You're not ready to get up yet.”</p><p>Kumiko raced toward them, falling into an embrace of the dog. Haru whined and wriggled with all her feeble coordination, trying to crawl into Kumiko's lap. “You found her. Haru, I knew you were alive! I just knew it.” Reunited they became a ball of dog and child, impossible to separate one from the other.</p><p>Wiping his brow, Narihisago sat back leaning on his palms, savoring the joyful reunion, a silver lining.</p><p>Kumiko's parents raced up, her father exclaiming, “You found her! You don't know how much this means to us.”</p><p>Her mother knelt down, stroking Haru's ears. “Are you the officer she spoke to?”</p><p>“Yeah, turned out Haru's disappearance was linked to another case I was working on. Knew it was her from that flier.”</p><p>“Kumiko made that herself and has been tirelessly canvasing.”</p><p>His eyebrows raised. “Well then, Kumiko gets credit for this too. Haru's been through quite a bit, you'll probably want to get her checked out at a vet … ”</p><p>“Narihisago!” the chief shouted as he rushed their direction, his brow furrowing. It was clear he attempted to keep his voice down, but the edge pushed the volume up. “What do you think you're doing? That's evidence!”</p><p>Pushing up to his feet he gestured back at the little girl obliviously embracing her dog. “Sir, you can't delay this. The poor dog's been through a traumatic experience. What are we going to do with her?”</p><p>“Procedures,” he hissed managing to keep his voice down.</p><p>Narihisago eyed him pleadingly. “If we need the evidence, send Haru to the vet and have the report of the findings sent to us. We don't really need to keep her from her family, do we?”</p><p>Tominaga's hard stare softened as he shifted to Kumiko hugging Haru. He heaved a sigh, covering his face. “Alright, detective. But next time you clear something like this with me.” He turned to one of the officers and waved him over. “Hey, need you to take them to the vet and arrange for a copy of the findings to be sent to the precinct.”</p><p>The officer nodded. “Sir.”</p><p>Tominaga stared at Narihisago and shook his head. “You sure you're alright? Matsuoka told me about the dock incident.”</p><p><em>Probably not the second half of that.</em> He held his arms out, his suit still rather wet in the humid summer day. “No holes in me. I'm good.”</p><p>“When there's time, get checked out by the medics. Ok?” He started off back toward the warehouse.</p><p>Kumiko's mother edged closer. “What happened?”</p><p>With a disarming chuckle, Narihisago waved a hand. “Inadvertently took a little swim. As I said, I was working another case which lead to here.” Lowering his voice he glanced toward the warehouse. “Don't go over that way. Trust me.”</p><p>From here the caged pets were not in their view, the warehouse blocking the stacks. But her parents shifted their gazes that direction. Her father cleared his throat. “What manner of officer did you say you were?”</p><p>He gave a grim smile. “I didn't actually. But if you must know … ”</p><p>When he paused, that was enough for them. Before he could even say it her mother hugged him, despite how he squelched in her embrace. “Thank you for calling us. We've been so worried about Haru.”</p><p>Narihisago took a deep breath, feeling awkward. He'd just been doing his job. And yet a deeper part of him knew this right here, the expression on that child's face, was why he chased the badge. Released from the hug, he knelt down and held his arms out. “Let me carry Haru to the car, ok? She's going for a ride with this officer to the vet for a quick check up to make sure she's alright.”</p><p>Kumiko looked between Narihisago and the officer. “Can I ride with her?”</p><p>The officer nodded. Narihisago picked Haru up, the dog gripped his shoulders as he bundled her. “Sure, get in the backseat and I'll set her in your lap.”</p><p>Kumiko dashed to the car as the officer opened the door and wiggled her way into the seat, her arms up as she waited. Carefully, Narihisago leaned down and placed Haru across her lap. Before the dog released hold of his shoulders, she licked his cheek. He ruffled her ears after she was settled. “You two watch out for one another now, ok? I want to see you two playing around the park.”</p><p>Kumiko smiled. “You got it, Mr. Narihisago.”</p><p>He backed away from the car and watched as both vehicles pulled off, the cop car followed by the parents.</p><p>The moment he turned back toward the warehouse his expression darkened. Now it was time to seal this case.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <b>~ID~</b>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Standing in the middle of the warehouse, Narihisago could now take a deep breath and not reel from a dizzy spell. Only the cages with the live dogs and cats had been removed. He'd glanced as he walked by outside on his way in. Roughly two dozen house pets now shifted and fussed in the cages. He'd overheard that vet staff were on the way to check them over. They were in good hands now and would soon be reunited with their owners. Unfortunately some of the animals had not survived, their corpses discarded in a pile, some of them had been partially stripped.</p><p>The only air conditioning inside the building was a squealing exhaust fan up in the rafters. At least it would have been it prior to the windows being broken open. By now the air had been cleared of the leaking anesthesia. His footsteps clanked against the metal grating as he wandered now alone. All they had done was remove the cages. Everything else remained as it had been.</p><p>Where he had pulled from Haru from, a large secondhand surgical table sat surrounded by aged equipment. Machines for monitoring, tubes and wires, all accompanied by a trays full of equipment. He'd been about to cut into Haru when they'd interrupted. The cages were in the same room, in full of view of the make-shift surgical suite. Not like any surgical suite he had ever viewed. Nor was that even ethically acceptable from what he'd been able to glean concerning scientific practices.</p><p>This place was a mess. Sterile was not a word he would use. No proper ventilation. The floor had remnants of cage contents, beneath the open grating the gutters were filled with the congealed contents of prior procedures. It appeared Wakabayashi used the same table for the human and animal alike. The only source of water was a rusty faucet. Hanging in the rafters above the second story working loft old dry-rotted fish netting still hung among discarded tackle.</p><p>As he wandered up above in the loft leaning against the metal railing, he took in the layout of where the hundreds of cages had been stacked. In the eve of the steel roof at the far end a faded logo of the North Star Fishing Company stared back at him, a smiling narwhal skewering a fish on its horn jumping through a four-pronged star. More old tack hung from the rafters proof that no one had bothered to clear the place out when they'd abandoned it. Beneath his feet the open grating released rust and other debris with each step. There was a lot of room in this humid hot box, and the scent of animal mixed with surgical cleaners in the stirring air currents. Where Wakabayashi had placed his equipment was ideal. Most would have approached the front of the building, and that had been stacked with the empty cages out. No one would have seen a thing from outside. He had only faintly glimpsed Haru moving from the side door's grimy window.</p><p>Still, as Narihisago wondered back down and into a side room lined with old specialized fridges displaying the digital temp on an external gauge. He opened one to discover frost covered sample containers marked with codes. Some with red lines scribbled through them. What he needed was the research journals that should have been kept … somewhere.</p><p>The next room was an office. A desk lay littered with numerous papers with nonsense notes in large stacks. Matsuoka stood by a bookcase, a deep scowl creasing his face. In a single move he whipped a book at Narihisago.</p><p>By luck he caught the fluttering pages, slightly fumbling as if catching a flapping bird.</p><p>“You lucky ass bastard!” Matsuoka snarled.</p><p>Righting the book, Narihisago blinked as he recognized the cover of <em>The Isle of Dr. Moreau</em>. Hah, he had been right, and sure enough there were handwritten notes in the margins. Holding up the book, he eyed Matsuoka, “Be careful, this is evidence!”</p><p>“Smart ass book worm! I can't believe I owe you a drink!”</p><p>Narihisago smirked, holding up the prized evidence. “Oh yeah, the bet.”</p><p>“You … you … ” He trembled with fury before storming out of the room.</p><p>“Matsuoka, you know we are actually on the same team.”</p><p>From outside the door Matsuoka growled.</p><p>Momoki looked over his shoulder as he entered the room. “Ooookay? What happened?”</p><p>Holding up the book, Narihisago grinned.</p><p>“No shit!” Closing the distance, Momoki glanced at the book and the empty slot on the bookshelf. “That was here?”</p><p>He nodded. “And Matsuoka found it first. I'm actually surprised he didn't just discard it since it proved me right.”</p><p>“As much as he might have considered that, I don't think he would have. Remember, destroying evidence is rather against the rules.”</p><p>“True.” Narihisago turned back to the book case digging at the journals, pulling them out and paging through page after damning page. The ink may not have been red, but the words were bleeding in his unethical mistrials. The rantings of a deranged man convinced that he was on the verge of a discovery.</p><p>“Narihisago?”</p><p>He didn't even glance up. “Wakabayashi was a victim of his own delusion. That's obvious just from a few pages. He was convinced that it was possible to transplant human stem cells into host animals after stripping the tags and programming the cells to become specified organs, and then take the organs and transplant them into a human. That only because using human hosts for growth is unethical. Heh, one faint moment of morality. He was starting with skin grafts which were readily seen.”</p><p>“The reopened neck wounds.”</p><p>“Precisely. But even if he had been successful, this operation is neither sterile nor the least bit legal. The subjects are hardly compliant. I doubt there are any forms anywhere in here.”</p><p>Momoki shook his head. “We'll know soon enough. We found where at least his latest victim was being kept.”</p><p>“Really?” He looked up for the first time.</p><p>“Out in the shipping containers. Wakabayashi made several of them into holding cells. Vile ones at that. Luckily we only found one current subject. He wasn't in good shape at all, unable to answer any questions. EMT's took him to the hospital.”</p><p>“That's two off to medical care.”</p><p>Momoki cocked his head. “Two?”</p><p>“Yeah, I found Haru on the surgical table, reunited her with her family and got her off to the vet.”</p><p>“Haru?” His brow furrowed.</p><p>“The missing dog?”</p><p>He took a step back as it came to him. “Was she ok?”</p><p>“More or less, by the looks of things we arrived just in time.”</p><p>“I somehow don't think he'll be escaping a conviction. I mean, there's a lot of witnesses who saw him threatening you.”</p><p>Narihisago slowly lifted his gaze from the journals. “Heh … I'm never living that down am I.”</p><p>“Eh, not likely.” Momoki scratched the back of his neck.</p><p>His shoulders sagged. “It was bound to get out eventually. Fine.” He grabbed for the next journal and started reading.</p><p>At his side, Momoki grabbed a book and started reading, his eyes growing wider with every page. “Wow, we know where he got the funding from.” Narihisago followed the money trail laid out on the page as Momoki traced his finger on it. “Why would the yakuza have their hands in this?”</p><p>He snorted a laugh. “They have their hands in anything profitable. Were this successful it would be.” He cringed at a prospect. “Come to think of it, Wakabayashi might be grateful we're the ones who caught him before he paid their price of failure.”</p><p>Momoki's eyes shut. “Used to think Dad was telling stories. That was until I'd seen it. Men missing digits in their hands. Forced to cut them off themselves and offer it as penance.”</p><p>“And you thought <em>your</em> father's tradition was hard to follow.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Scribbled words marked the boundaries of the pages of the dog-eared science fiction novel. The deep dive into the man's psyche took nothing more than reading the pages of his experiment notes and the collective scribbles in his inspiration. Mostly the latter connecting multiple entries.</p><p>
  <em>The idea is masterful, but no need to remake the whole animal. The fault is in the whole. Make beast serve man to grow what we need. The cellular field is fertile.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>In utero a cell is a mere potential, awaiting the signals to tell it what to be. If we can master those signals, we could take a stem cell and instruct it to our whim. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Imagine being able to harness the same technique utilized in knock-out mice to remove the active expression tag marking the cells as 'not-self'. From there we could us a blank parent strain to program whatever we need. Hearts, lungs, kidneys, livers, pancreas … no matter what was needed, we could grow it and harvest it inside the host animals. All that is needed is a proper source to begin the harvest. The parent strain.</em>
</p><p>Of course the man was thorough enough as to date these, this all came before the first paper, the retracted one. The ethical one involving pigs and human cells donated from the recently deceased, that proved to use too small of a test base.</p><p>The office turned into a treasure trove, exposing the downward spiral into desperation cutting corners and savagely blazing a trail to prove his technique valid. This was quite a setup, and illegal as hell requiring substantial financing. “Hey, Momoki, when you shot him, did you see a tattoo at all?”</p><p>Setting the journal he'd been paging through into an evidence box, Momoki paused for a brief moment. “Come to think of it, I think I saw one under the collar of this shirt. You think he was that deep into the yakuza?”</p><p>“Well, given the notes we've found I wouldn't be surprised. For that much in funds he'd have to be marked at least.”</p><p>“By the looks of it his venture was hemorrhaging money. He wasn't too far from bleeding himself. Yakuza won't wait forever for a return on an investment. At least we found this operation and shut it down. Now we just need to make certain the Stitcher doesn't go free.”</p><p>Narihisago snorted a laugh. “There's no way he'll see the light of day again after all this.” Placing the copy of the novel on top of the box, he picked it up and started to haul the evidence out of the office passing by the sound of someone retching.</p><p>By now Shingi, on corpse removal duty, was attempting to keep a distance from the animal carcasses in the corner. The spatter of his vomit on the floor added to the unpleasantness as Matsuoka snapped from outside, “Get a move on!”</p><p>A pang of sympathy ran through Narihisago. The remains were rather pungent. Apparently Matsuoka decided to task Shingi with it for some reason. Not seeing it as his own business, Narihisago passed on by. Setting the box in the van with the growing evidence pile, he grabbed the book and continued to page through it in search of more insight.</p><p>By now a crowd of reporters had descended on the edge of scene, cameras everywhere. Word had clearly gotten out about the Stitcher's capture.</p><p>From a distance Narihisago heard the interviews with little interest as the chief and several officers mentioned what was known and what was to be determined. The typical lines for the camera.</p><p>
  <em>Strip down to the base, free the cell from self. Can become anything if it has no identity of its own.</em>
</p><p>
  <span>He stared at the scribbled writing on the page, what a strange thought.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <b>~ID~</b>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seated on the couch, Ayako savored some quiet time reading a novel as Muku played with her farm set in front of the TV. Just above the book she watched her daughter kick her tiny bare feet in the air as she shuttled the dog around making barking noises. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As long as there was some sound she knew what Muku was up to. Back into the pages of an adventure she sunk with an indulgent smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence. She lowered the pages.</span>
</p><p>“<span>Mommy! Mommy, look Daddy's on screen!” Her pudgy finger pointed. But by the time Ayako looked up the newscaster had taken over with the breaking message. Muku pouted in disappointment. “Daddy gone.”</span></p><p>“<span>Come here, honey, let's watch together. He might show up again in a minute.” </span><em>Why would Akihito be on a newscast … there's only one reason, a break in the case. This might not be Muku appropriate.</em></p><p>
  <span>Muku grabbed the cushion and hauled herself up, seating her rump down right next to Ayako with a solid toddler thump. Her eyes glued to the screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The newscaster continued on, </span>
  <em>“ … currently on the scene where the first division has reportedly made an arrest in what has come to be known as the Stitcher case. Let's go to the scene … ”</em>
</p><p>
  <span>On the screen Momoki stood firm flanked be Chief Tominaga, and a scarred up man in a trench coat with a grim expression on his face, they were surrounded by a ring of microphones intruding on the camera shot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A reporter on the edge of the screen barked, </span>
  <em>“We're down at the Tokyo docks where an illegal lab was under operation. Details are still coming in, but we have the exclusive on this breaking news. Detective Momoki, this was a landmark case! How did you manage to solve it?”</em>
</p><p>
  <span>Momoki took a deep breath, shifting his gaze between the cameras.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ayako snickered to herself, “Exclusive indeed.”</span>
</p><p>“<span>What, Mommy?”</span></p><p>“<span>Oh nothing sweetheart. Let's listen to your uncle Moki.”</span></p><p>“<em>I assure you, this was an unusual case, one that required a lot of research. It started with the dumping field found near the quarry to the west of the metro where our perp grew careless. From that discovery there arose a pathway that lead us to this warehouse. Honestly I did not do this alone. Most of the credit for today's arrest goes to … ” </em><span>he paused and looked around, pointing in haste,</span><em> “ … to Detective Akihito Narihisago.”</em></p><p>
  <span>The cameras blurred in a wild swing around landing on the figure of a rather soggy Narihisago, his hair half weighed down, random strands sticking up. He was casually leaning against a shipping crate reading a book in his hands. Hearing his name, he glanced up dumbfounded into the flash of several cameras. </span>
  <em>“I uhh … what?”</em>
</p><p>
  <span>Ayako giggled. “And your Daddy makes an amazing first impression. Look at his suit, I better empty the washer.”</span>
</p><p>“<span>Daddy!” Muku waved at the screen.</span></p><p>
  <span>The broadcast switched to a camera that had stayed on Momoki, he gritted his teeth in a forced smile. </span>
  <em>“The path to solving the case.”</em>
</p><p>“<em>Oh yeah.”</em><span> Staring at the cameras Narihisago shrugged, holding up the book. </span><em>“It wasn't that hard really, just a matter of following the clues.”</em></p><p>
  <span>Eyeing him as if to say, </span>
  <em>Smooth, real smooth buddy,</em>
  <span> Momoki continued, </span>
  <em>“We'll be looking to close up this case as swiftly as possible. A conviction is likely considering the evidence we have collected.”</em>
</p><p>
  <span>The newscaster at the desk reappeared. </span>
  <em>“That was Detective Funetaro Momoki, the son of the commissioner. We'll be covering this case as new information comes in.”</em>
</p><p>
  <span>A moment later the phone rang. Ayako answered to a rather breathless Aki. </span>
  <em>“They didn't tell me that was live! Ayako, don't worry, I'm alright.”</em>
</p><p>“You looked fine, Aki.”</p><p>Climbing up her, Muku reached for the phone. “Daddy!”</p><p>“But I am curious, how did it rain just by the docks?”</p><p>There was a moment of silence before he exhaled roughly. She could just picture his crestfallen face. <em>“I inadvertently went for a swim.”</em></p><p>Ayako dissolved into laughter. “What happened?”</p><p>“<em>Eh, I don't want to worry you, ok?”</em></p><p>
  <span>The humor suddenly faded as she sat up a bit straighter. “Worry me, Aki—what happened?”</span>
</p><p>“<em>I had a choice, jump in the water or get shot.”</em></p><p>Her grip tightened until Muku complained, “Mommy, too tight!”</p><p>
  <span>She forced her arm too loosen. “Muku honey, go play on the floor.” Her voice shook more than she desired. The moment Muku was on the floor absorbed in tiling the carpet with a toy tractor, she stood and walked to the kitchen keeping her voice down. “Aki … did you say shot?”</span>
</p><p>“<em>I told you, I'm ok. I didn't get hit … ”</em></p><p>“This isn't something you downplay!”</p><p>“<em>Momoki nailed him while my head was under. I really wasn't in danger.”</em></p><p>“Except the part of being shot at! Aki! You're supposed to be careful!”</p><p>
  <span>The image of her gentle husband staring down the barrel of a gun worried her. The bar fight had been one thing, this could have been lethal. The very idea of him being injured or killed … she didn't want to even consider the latter. When he'd become a detective and taken her brother with him on that track that was supposed to protect them both from immediate danger.</span>
</p><p>“<em>I was—am being careful. Things might go a bit late tonight. We have a lot to do to wrap up the case now that we caught the perp.”</em></p><p>“Alright. You and Momoki stick together.”</p><p>He laughed. <em>“We are partners. That's kind of how this works. Besides, we're off to the station. Out next task is interrogating the Stitcher. From what I've gathered this'll be interesting.”</em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <b>~ID~</b>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The interrogation room was cozy, to put it mildly. Made worse by the presence of not two, but three detectives. Matsuoka insisted on being in on this, now three chairs pressed on a side of the table designed for only two. On the other side the Stitcher, Nobu Wakabayashi sat staring at his cuffed hands resting on the scratched steel surface of the table.</p><p>Crammed between Momoki and Matsuoka, Narihisago rubbed his chin taking in the details of this man. Wakabayashi's silver hair hung in long disheveled strands pulled free from a ponytail. His stained shirt, minus a few buttons, hung awkwardly open revealing a tattoo of an ornate serpent terminating below his collarbones, one the head and the other the tail. The lab coat had layers of blood stains no amount of washing could hope to erase. His hands, that was the thing that captivated Narihisago. They didn't so much as twitch. Rock solid.</p><p>The hands of a surgeon.</p><p>Narihisago's eyes drifted down to the cover of the book, <em>Isle of Dr. Moreau</em>. His fingers tapped it idly. <em>The hands. But no longer the mind.</em></p><p>Wakabayashi had been read his rights. So, no point on formalities. Narihisago cleared his throat. “We were in the middle of a discussion earlier on the dock. A shame it got interrupted.”</p><p>Slowly, Wakabayashi looked up, gradual recognition growing in his eyes. “Oh yes. Yes, I remember.” His finger shifted as if pulling a trigger.</p><p>Narihisago sighed as Matsuoka glared down at him. He chose to ignore it, wondering how much the man's knee hurt from the bullet Momoki had punched into it. “What do you say we continue sans firearms.”</p><p>“What happened to subject 23-A?” The steady voice cut like ice. Not a lick of emotion.</p><p>“The man we found in the shipping container?” The one who hadn't come to in the hospital yet.</p><p>He nodded subtly. Such a telling gesture. So economical. A man accustomed to unquestioned authority.</p><p>“He's being taken care of.” No point in asking a name, Narihisago doubted he would speak it even if he knew it. The moment the subject entered Wakabayashi's trials they'd been stripped of their markers.</p><p>“I want to know the results. Another week before the next step for him.”</p><p>“And that was … ?”</p><p>Wakabayashi's smile twisted. “Don't patronize me, boy. I know you've seen my notes.” He glanced at the book.</p><p>Narihisago picked the book up and flipped the pages, eyeing the man back. “What an inspired read it was.”</p><p>“Tch! Moreau was nothing but a hack. Science does not care about playing God. There is no God. Only DNA. Only fools would limit the use of such a tool.”</p><p>“Fools like Ota,” no reaction, “Iwai,” barely a flicker, “Asato,” he twitched. “Tsukamoto?” His fingers curled, getting warmer. “Nishiyama?”</p><p>Matsuoka cocked his head on one side. On the other, Momoki held his breath. Well, he couldn't use Victim #5, Wakabayashi hadn't seen their murder board.</p><p>His smile vanished, replaced by a scowl. “That idiot couldn't see my genius!”</p><p>Undeterred he continued, “You know, if I had just seen your notes I might have considered that so. Generally speaking the theory seems sound and would be extremely beneficial.”</p><p>A fist thudded against the table, clattering the cuffs. “Not a theory. It is practically law!”</p><p>Narihisago couldn't hold in the short laugh, this was too easy. “Correct me if I'm wrong, but for something to be considered scientific law requires extensive testing. How much have you done for this experiment … let me see if I have this process right, where you take stem cells from a human and coax them into organs grown in dogs or cats and harvest them to be reinserted into the human again. Does Futurescapes mean anything to you?”</p><p>Clearly it did. He snarled, “That paper was perfect, until Nishiyama made a mockery of us! Hatanaka was such a feeble minded dolt he couldn't take the pressure. His mind snapped like a twig when they took his license. Kito once believed, that bitch! But she turned her back on me, blamed me for the loss of her license and her marriage! Tried to talk me out of it. Only I had the strength to go the distance. This groundbreaking science will move the world.”</p><p>Matsuoka whispered just above his breath, “Crackpot.”</p><p>Not that Narihisago could argue with that, he raised an eyebrow and tapped the book. “And that's why you had to strip them of their tags, their identities. So they couldn't spoil your plan. Besides, the fact they stood against you was synonymous in volunteering. The most efficient way to silence their concerns, right?”</p><p>“Of course. Kito just had to be brought around.”</p><p>He shrugged. “By cutting her open.”</p><p>“Yes.” There'd been no hesitation.</p><p>This confession couldn't have gone better. “This is such a specific procedure. After years of being out of the surgical field you had to practice before utilizing your more valuable specimens.”</p><p>“Certainly. No one misses dogs or cats. There is such a ready supply. The neck so much more delicate. The perfect thing to practice on.”</p><p>At that Narihisago cleared his throat and eyed Matsuoka. The senior detective hastily looked away. “Ahh well,” Narihisago lifted a shoulder, “as long as the potential is tapped.”</p><p>His eyes hardened. “A cell is a mere potential, awaiting the signal to tell it what to be. If we can master those signals, we could take a stem cell and instruct it to our whim.”</p><p>With a deft hand, Narihisago opened the book to the page with those exact notes. “What was Moreau's sin?”</p><p>Wakabayashi blinked, brought up short. His breath stuck in his throat.</p><p>Matsuoka snarled, “Again with this fiction crap? We're after reality you bookworm!”</p><p>He held up a hand, a cocky grin growing. “So, you read it, but all you got was to scoff at the God-complex. That wasn't Moreau's real sin.”</p><p>Narihisago stood, leaning in his hands and watching as Wakabayashi scrambled for an answer. When he looked up and met Narihisago's flat stare, he quailed as the words impacted. “Empathy. He tried to make humanity, but he never empathized with his creations.”</p><p>With a flick of his wrist, Narihisago sent a stack of photos of the crime scenes across the table in front of him. “I believe all doctors take the Hippocratic oath, first do no harm. What do you call this?”</p><p>It was like Wakabayashi's eyes took in reality for the first time, breaking through the madness. The man crumbled into a sobbing heap. “My time was nearly up—they were going to bleed me for the more than I could possibly come up with. You don't understand what happens when a yakuza loan comes due! I needed this breakthrough to save my neck!”</p><p>Momoki pushed a confession sheet in front of him with a pen.</p><p>Narihisago held the book up. “Biggest mistake was being inspired by a fictional dick who got torn apart by his own hubris.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“That is not how I remember it!” Narihisago gripped the beer bottle, already a bit rosy-cheeked and glassy-eyed.</p><p>In the midst of the bustling Empty Vessel bar Momoki folded his arms and turned on his stool, eyeing his already tipsy partner. “You were out for ten minutes.”</p><p>“I was not!” He sputtered, “It was more like … a minute!”</p><p>Curling a lip, Matsuoka picked up his whiskey and downed it in a single gulp.</p><p>Momoki threw his head back laughing. “I'm not exaggerating, Akihito. God, all those hours spent teaching you that grapple, and on the testing mat you blacked out like a light switch.”</p><p>After a sip of his beer, he shrugged. “It's not exactly like I had a watch on while the drill commander handed my ass to me. I don't even remember how he got me into that choke hold!”</p><p>Signaling the barkeep for a refill, Matsuoka mumbled halfway above his breath, “I can't believe you two drink at my favorite haunt.”</p><p>Narihisago looked up, moving a bit too swift and nearly loosing his balance. All three of them had already had a few, well beyond the <em>single promised drink</em>. Tossing sheets to the wind, as a sailor might say. “What was that?”</p><p>“There's something I gotta know, how did you get past combat testing?”</p><p>Momoki threw an arm over his shoulder. “That big brain of his.”</p><p>He squirmed in the hold. “That's a load of bullshit.”</p><p>“Nah it isn't.” Momoki's speech slightly slurred as he was feeling his cups too. “Talked the ear off the commander. Told him about his career track and how fighting skills weren't a big deal to a detective. Should have heard the way he maneuvered it.”</p><p>Matsuoka grunted and picked up the refill on his whiskey. His expression wrinkled his scars. “Not a very intelligent choice.”</p><p>“Awww, come on. It's not like we'll get hurt on the job.” Narihisago downed the rest of the beer and set the bottle down. His eyes narrowed. “Hey, where'd you get those scars?”</p><p>“On the job.” A slight smile curled his lips as the boys both moved backward. “This shit gets real and you novices know nothing of danger, thinking you are smart enough to outwit anything.”</p><p>Momoki ruffled Narihisago's hair. “Oh, but he is. That big brain of his can solve anything.”</p><p>Narihisago held up a finger but wasn't fast enough to speak as Matsuoka turned to face the novice detectives. “Wanna bet?”</p><p>“Yeah!” Momoki leaned forward, ignoring the stunned expression on Narihisago's face.</p><p>“Wait … what are we doing?”</p><p>“Alright bookworm,” Matsuoka poked a finger into the center of Narihisago's red tie, how about we play a game.”</p><p>Momoki slammed a palm down on the bar. “We're detectives. A game of clues!” He tapped his temple, “I Spy!”</p><p>“Kid's stuff!” Matsuoka snorted.</p><p>But a slow smile spread on Narihisago's face, a bit crooked from stewing in alcohol. He held up a hand. “Not if the guess must be tagged.”</p><p>They both stared at him.</p><p>He folded his arms over his chest. “All three of us have to be in on this. One delivers a clue, the other two race to tag the answer first. Champion is the one with the most points at the end of the game.”</p><p>Their thoughts marinaded in liquor, it seemed like a good enough idea. What could possibly go wrong.</p><p>He placed his hand out, palm down. A moment later, Momoki put his hand on his. The two locked eyes with Matsuoka, after a short pause, he grunted and put his hand on top. “By the end of this night you'll be calling me the undisputed champion!”</p><p>On the stool beside him, Shingi sat nursing a club soda. He suddenly balked as three of his fellow detectives eyed him. Matsuoka clamped a hand on his shoulder. “And we have our witness.”</p><p>Shingi gulped and tried to backpedal, but he was stuck against the bar.</p><p>“Let's get this rolling!” Matsuoka barked out, “I spy something yellow.”</p><p>Narihisago walked toward Shingi and flipped his yellow tie over his shoulder.</p><p>That darkened Matsuoka's expression.</p><p>“Point for Narihisago.” Shingi held up a finger meekly.</p><p>“My turn.” Narihisago rubbed his chin. “I spy something … dark brown.”</p><p>Matsuoka and Momoki turned in tandem tracing his line of sight, along the bar. Instantly Momoki spotted it, and took a step back. If he was right, that wasn't a point he wanted to claim. He had a feeling that <em>dark brown</em> object was the whiskey in the bottom of a glass belonging to very built man in a sleeveless shirt, concrete dust on his clothing from what he assumed was a hard day on the job site.</p><p>The moment Momoki glanced at Narihisago he spied the cocked grin and knew he'd guessed right.</p><p>Matsuoka strode right across the bar and reached for the glass, seizing it with a triumphant heft. “Hah! I have it, don't I!”</p><p>“Oh, you got it.”</p><p>“Point for me!” He sloshed the glass around above his head.</p><p>Behind him the meaty thwack of a fist into a palm turned many a head in the bar.</p><p>“You might want to duck.” Narihisago pointed a moment before the blow whiffed over Matsuoka's head as he managed to just evade the blow.</p><p>He set the glass back down and chuckled to the man. “Didn't mean anything from that. Was just a game.”</p><p>The man who appeared more grizzly than human being, snarled and loomed over Matsuoka.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>~ID~</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“What's the tally?” Matsuoka slurred as he cracked the top off a beer bottle from the six pack he'd sent Shingi into a store for. The three detectives had split it, renewing their <em>genius</em> in the night air.</p><p>With a sigh, Shingi paused the recording and checked his notebook. “Momoki seven. Matsuoka twenty.”</p><p>He pumped a first in the air.</p><p>“Narihisago twenty-one.”</p><p>Leaning against a lamppost, Narihisago took a sip from his second beer from the pack and popped his eyebrows as Matsuoks scowled. “Oh bookworm's going down … come on,” he didn't get the full name out, pronouncing the vowel right but slurring the 's', “Moms. Give us the clue.”</p><p>Momoki glanced up from staring at the beer bottle label. “Kay … uhhh, I spy somethin' … umm … green.”</p><p>“I know!” Matsuoka turned and jabbed a finger toward Narihisago's face poking his cheek as he ducked backward. “Stay still, I gotta touch your eye!”</p><p>“Gah! Don't blind him. No, you're wrong. S'not that.”</p><p>Narihisago glanced around in the streetlight. This game was harder in the muted palette of the night. Wandering over to a tree he picked a leaf.</p><p>Momoki shook his head.</p><p>He tossed that one, and grabbed another.</p><p>“Nope. Not that one.”</p><p>In a mad dive, both Matsuoka and Narihisago picked leaf after leaf from the tree until they had exhausted the full supply leaving the branches without a single quivering bit of foliage. At long last Matsuoka looked up to spy the car behind them. He leaned over and touched it.</p><p>“Yes!”</p><p>The blaring of an alarm sent them staggering away with their hands over their ears as the car flashed its headlights.</p><p>Around the corner as they caught their breath, Matsuoka gloated. “That one goes to me. So … uhhh, I spy something,” he began to grin wickedly, rubbing his hands together, “gray.”</p><p>Immediately Narihisago and Momoki started to search all around as there were a lot of gray things, if metallic counted as gray. Didn't seem like it when Momoki tapped a bike rack.</p><p>Bending down, Narihisago cocked his head at the brickwork on the sidewalk. He started an odd one man game of Twister touching four of the gray stones at a time until Matsuoka's fist appeared.</p><p>“Hah! Point to me!”</p><p>“Bastard.”</p><p>Narihisago cracked his knuckles and gazed around the street corner they were on … somewhere downtown Tokyo. The street signs were a titch blurry. But they were tied now, at least he thought they were. He needed something tricky, unusual. Rubbing his chin he surveyed the empty street and spied it. The devilish trick. On the other side of the street in front of a construction sight he spotted the red silhouette of the crosswalk signal. “I spy something red.”</p><p>He leaned back, downing the rest of his beer as he watched Matsuoka from the corner of his eye already sussing out the direction he'd been looking. Matsuoka furrowed his brow and started to storm across the crosswalk, which was now no longer red, permitting safe passage.</p><p>“Damn it, he wasn't supposed to get it so quickly.” Narihisago followed at a distance. But he stopped a bit short, not entering the street as Matsuoka stormed straight past the clue. Holding up a finger, Narihisago cocked his head. “Where's he going?”</p><p>To their shock, and captured in Shingi's recording, they watched as Matsuoka pushed open the fence passing the <em>Hard Hat Required</em> sign, and the <em>No Trespassing</em> sign. A moment later, they heard Matsuoka's grunts as he hauled himself up onto the boom of the crane and started to crawl his way out.</p><p>Momoki gasped, “What is he doing?”</p><p>The sound was more appropriate for a hyena as Narihisago laughed hard enough to double over. “Oh my God, the idiot! I know where he's going!” He pointed to the red flag hanging at the end of the mostly horizontal boom.</p><p>Sure enough, on his hands and knees, with a determined will, and well in focus of the lens, Matsuoka shambled his way out toward the end, groping for the flag.</p><p>“Hey,” Momoki elbowed Narihisago, “that's not it is it?”</p><p>“No way.” He could barely answer for laughing. “Not even close.”</p><p>That became infectious, Momoki's laughter only marginally quieter. “Tell him.”</p><p>“Why?” Narihisago wiped his eyes. “Hahaha, he looks so sure of himself … our champion! Hahaha!” He fell into Momoki, nearly toppling both of them over.</p><p>Tugging on the flag, Matsuoka shouted, “Hey! I got it!”</p><p>Cupping his hand by his mouth, Narihisago called back. “Guess again!”</p><p>“What?” Leaning forward, he wobbled. His grip on the flag tightened as he employed it to keep atop the large piece of construction equipment. In the still night air a tearing reached their ears. The flag now hung from one corner instead of two. Matsuoka started to shuffle backward off the crane accompanied by the string of curses.</p><p>Narihisago burst back into laughter. “Wow, I think we can count that as the most epic fail of the night.”</p><p>Momoki held his question until Matsuoka stomped out of the work yard, he followed as Narihisago cross the street. “Alright, Akihito, what was it?”</p><p>A second later a red light cast over them. He didn't look at his pointed up unapologetically.</p><p>Matsuoka tried to grab his jacket lapels and stumbled. But it went no better for Narihisago who tripped backward as he evaded, catching his weight against Momoki in a giggling fit. This time, unable to compensate they tumbled to the ground in a hysterical muddle.</p><p>A car pulled up, a flashlight blazed into toward them. “Hey, what's going on here?”</p><p>The mischievous trio raised their arms to block the light from the stunned officer.</p><p>He lifted his cap off, “Detectives?”</p><p>Shingi stepped forward. “I can explain … I hope.”</p><p>“Do they need a ride home?”</p><p>He turned to find the three of them consumed with laughter while trying to remember if it was a tie or a landslide three different ways to Thursday. Shingi nodded firmly. “Oh, yes. There is not doubt about that.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <b>~ID~</b>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The taste was something like unwashed sweat socks soaked in vinegar, or so he imagined. Akihito smacked his lips and groaned, opening his eyes to discover his living room bathed in blinding light … and an incredibly splitting headache! Instantly he covered his face with an arm and smelled sea salted wool.</p><p>The night before refused to come to back to him. Why hadn't he come home and changed out of the suit he'd virtually swam in? Why had he slept in it? Why was he on the couch?</p><p>Loud footsteps drew his attention as they paused beside the couch. He peered from under his arm to spy Ayako smiling down at him before she launched into unmuted questioning. “Morning Aki! Do a little celebrating last night?”</p><p>“Mmmmph … ” was about all he could manage through the throbbing headache. Couldn't she keep it down?</p><p>“I gathered you had yourself a good time. At least that's the impression the officers who brought you home gave me.”</p><p>Slowly he lowered his arm. <em>Brought me home? </em>He peered around. No Momoki. Muku sat at the table kicking her feet as she ate her breakfast. When she saw him looking at her, she held out a fork with some fish and rice. “Daddy hungry?”</p><p>That sent his stomach into a twisting tango. Hastily, he scrambled for the bathroom racing the rising acidic gorge.</p><p>Ayako's voice carried around the corner. “Aki, the mouthwash is in the cabinet.”</p><p>Gasping over the toilet he learned a dismal truth as he dry heaved. Apparently he'd already completed this part. With a moan, he staggered up to his feet and rinsed his mouth out, trying to banish the horrid flavor of his barely remembered overindulgence. In the mirror he couldn't believe the sight. Disheveled, his hair was a tangled mess, every stitch of clothing was wrinkled to hell. His bright red tie hung at an angle, the knot tugged loose. And his skin tone was rather close to his eye color … jade.</p><p>A knock on the front door stole his attention. A bit wobbly, he used the wall for support as he made his way back to the living room in time to catch Ayako responding, “Yes, my husband is here.”</p><p>In the doorway he spotted to officers, the front one tugged the brim of his cap down. “Detective Narihisago, we were sent to bring you the first division office.”</p><p>
  <em>Uh oh, I have a feeling that's not for a promotion.</em>
  <span> “The chief gave us the day off for a job well done on the … ” his brain scrambled to come up with the name, “Stitcher case?”</span>
</p><p>“<span>Yeah, he mentioned that. Said he needed to clear up a few things.” The officer waved a hand out the door.</span></p><p>
  <span>Ayako folded her arms, her eyes scolding him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As stable as he could, he followed them out to the car, grateful that his stomach was at least empty. They opened the back door and he was shocked to see Momoki holding his head. He peered to the side as the door shut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The car pulled off, jostling a bit, making the ride perfect misery.</span>
</p><p>“<span>Funetaro? Do you remember last night?”</span></p><p>
  <span>His bloodshot eyes appeared between fingers. “Which part?”</span>
</p><p>“<span>Any of it?”</span></p><p>“<span>Well, I remember my father picking me up off the floor by my collar and lecturing me as I vomited into his trashcan. You?”</span></p><p>
  <span>He shook his head slowly. </span>
</p><p>“<span>Ayako?”</span></p><p>“<span>Apparently I spent the night on the couch … which just about tells you how that went over. Wait a second … was my car out front of the apartment complex?” It was far too late to check now, but he swore the squad car had been parked in his spot.</span></p><p>
  <em>Crap! Where did I leave my car?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <b>~ID~</b>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chief Tominaga drummed his nails against the desk. On the laptop screen, facing the three seated detectives, the video played in all its damning glory. Incident after incident filmed right in their midst showing Matsuoka, Momoki, and Narihisago flagrantly disregarded no trespassing signs, climbed up onto awnings, and engaging in a number of surprisingly coordinated feats for being shitfaced drunk disrupting the peace throughout the streets of Tokyo.</span>
</p><p>“<span>Narihisago,” Matsuoka pointed while gripping the side of his head, “how did you get onto that statue?”</span></p><p>
  <span>He didn't answer. He just stared as Momoki attempted to hide in plain sight, and failed, for it is impossible to hide in a chair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The chief grunted, “That's what I'd like to know. What the hell did you three think you were doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narihisago's alcohol steeped brain struggled to come up with something. “You see sir, couldn't have been me. The guy in the video, I don't have a tie like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tominaga leaned over his desk, reached out and snatched his tie pulling it up in front of his eyes. “You're still wearing it!”</span>
</p><p>“<span>Heh …oh.” His head throbbed with every beat of his racing heart. </span></p><p>
  <span>Momoki spoke to his lap, “Things got a bit out of hand when we went to celebrate solving the case.”</span>
</p><p>“<span>A </span><em>little</em><span>?” He pulled up a file on the computer. “Eight counts of trespassing, three of destruction of property, nine for disrupting the peace. And at least four of drunk and disorderly conduct. Most of this on CC security cameras with the footage already filed with the department. Do you have any idea how long all that will take me to clear up?”</span></p><p>
  <span>Their heads drooped with each of his accusations.</span>
</p><p>“<span>Detectives, along with one senior detective,” he glared at Matsuoka, “after a high profile case out drinking to the point of charges! You're lucky the officers took you three home instead of to the drunk tank. And even more fortunate the press didn't catch sight of your debauchery! The shame this would have brought our division.”</span></p><p>“<span>Sir I—”</span></p><p>“<span>Not a word! In the time it took for the men to bring you all here I have already decided on how you will be taught never to do this again.” He folded his arms across his chest and stared at them. “For today you will go home and sober the hell up. Tomorrow you will report, </span><span><b>in uniform</b></span><span>, to the street division.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Narihisago and Momoki stared hard at the floor. That stung, but it was better than getting fired.</span>
</p><p>“<span>I will see you back here in one week with a proper understanding of how to conduct yourselves. Am I understood?”</span></p><p>
  <span>They both answered in trained unison. “Yes sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the long silence, Tominaga turned to Matsuoka. “And you?”</span>
</p><p>“<span>Sir?” He blinked in confusion.</span></p><p>“<span>I meant you as well.”</span></p><p>
  <span>He gawked, fighting for words. “But sir, I'm a senior detective!”</span>
</p><p>“<span>Who should have known better than to go galavanting all over town and climbing around a construction site.”</span></p><p>“<span>I haven't been in uniform in over a decade!”</span></p><p>
  <span>Tominaga smirked. “I care. Now, all three of you go back home and sleep it off. Narihisago, you can get your car back from impound tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>“<span>Well, that answers that.” He sighed. “The mystery of where I left my car is solved.”</span></p><p>
  <span>The chief narrowed his eyes. “You're going to be interesting to work with, aren't you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Momoki eyed him. “Never a dull moment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they passed through the department office, Narihisago muttered, “How do you think he got that footage? I mean … all of that looked like it was right with us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Momoki stopped, thwapping a hand in the center of Narihisago's chest as they both looked at Shingi sitting at his desk trying frantically to look preoccupied. “I remember! We weren't alone last night, that snitch!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narihisago grabbed Momoki's wrist, dragging him from walking toward the desk. “We're in enough trouble. The chief has enough charges to clear up, he doesn't need assault. Besides, I think Shingi has someone else to worry about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a quick gesture, but it was enough to direct Momoki's attention as Matsuoka left the chief's office and eyed Shingi like a bull about to charge. He dove behind his desk like a frightened rabbit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <b>~ID~</b>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Momoki tugged the hat brim down to cover most of his face. Already he swore he could feel the blisters on his heels as he and Narihisago patrolled the streets … on foot. So much for savoring the success of their mission.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A call came over the com. </span>
  <em>“Officers Momoki and Narihisago, you've been requested for security detail down the musical festival, since you're two blocks away.”</em>
</p><p>“<span>Copy that.” Momoki sighed as they turned toward the distant music.</span></p><p>“<span>Bright side, at least we can stand still for a while instead of patrolling.”</span></p><p>
  <span>He lifted a shoulder in a shrug as they approached the well controlled crowd building before a stage. Looked to be a dull assignment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>From behind them an excited shout turned their attention, “Bros!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Momoki instantly froze as Narihisago turned to find Kichiro with a guitar case over his shoulder, walking toward them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kichiro threw his arms wide. “Whoa! Didn't think I would see you two here today. Rad! Now you can hear me play! Awww man, this is like a sweet fam reunion! Snazzy uniforms.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Kichiro bear hugged his brothers, Momoki whispered to Narihisago, “You were saying something about a silver lining?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So we've reached the end of this 'past foray' and bid farewell to the guys' detective days for now ... but at least on the humorous note of the "Drunken I Spy Tag" game that was their infamy. ;) Next we'll be back to Kura's era, nipping at the heels of FILE: BUSTED. There was a reason I delved back to this case, careful readers will see why in the next story! ;)</p><p>See you again soon!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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